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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..32af011 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #53711 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/53711) diff --git a/old/53711-8.txt b/old/53711-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 47bd150..0000000 --- a/old/53711-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,3916 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Orchid, by Robert Grant - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Orchid - -Author: Robert Grant - -Illustrator: Alonzo Kimball - -Release Date: December 11, 2016 [EBook #53711] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ORCHID *** - - - - -Produced by Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - -THE ORCHID - -BY -ROBERT GRANT - -ILLUSTRATED BY -ALONZO KIMBALL - -CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS -NEW YORK 1905 - - -Copyright, 1905, by -CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS - -_Published, April, 1905_ - - -TROW DIRECTORY -PRINTING AND BOOKBINDING COMPANY -NEW YORK - - -[Illustration: "I ask you to drink to the happiness of the loveliest -woman in creation."] - - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS - - -"_I ask you to drink to the happiness of the - loveliest woman in creation_" Frontispiece - - Facing - page -_The smile of incredulity which curved her - lips betrayed entertainment also_ 108 - -_"I should not permit it!" he thundered. - "I should go to law; I should appeal - to the courts"_ 156 - -_A huge machine of bridal white ... tore - around the corner_ 222 - - - - -THE ORCHID - - - - -I - - -It was generally recognized that Lydia Arnold's perceptions were quicker -than those of most other people. She was alert in grasping the -significance of what was said to her; her face clearly revealed this. -She had the habit of deliberating just an instant before responding, -which marked her thought; and when she spoke, her words had a succinct -definiteness of their own. The quality of her voice arrested attention. -The intonation was finished yet dry: finished in that it was well -modulated; dry in that it was void of enthusiasm. - -Yet Lydia was far from a grave person. She laughed readily and freely, -but in a minor key, which was only in keeping with her other attributes -of fastidiousness. Her mental acuteness and conversational poise were -accounted for at Westfield--the town within the limits of which dwelt -the colony of which she was a member--by the tradition that she had read -everything, or, more accurately, that she had been permitted to read -everything while still a school-girl. - -Her mother, a beautiful, nervous invalid--one of those mysterious -persons whose peculiarities are pigeon-holed in the memories of their -immediate families--had died in Lydia's infancy. Her amiable but -self-indulgent father had been too easy-going or too obtuse to follow -the details of her home-training. He had taken refuge from qualms or -perplexities by providing a governess, a well-equipped, matronly -foreigner, from whom she acquired a correct French accent and composed -deportment, both of which were now marks of distinction. Mlle. Demorest -would have been the last woman to permit a _jeune fille_ to browse -unreservedly in a collection of miscellaneous French novels. But Lydia -saw no reason why she should inform her preceptress that, having entered -her father's library in search of "Ivanhoe" and the "Dutch Republic," -she had gone there later to peruse the works of Flaubert, Octave -Feuillet, and Guy de Maupassant. Why, indeed? For, to begin with, was -she not an American girl, and free to do as she chose? And then again -the evolution was gradual; she had reached this stage of culture by -degrees. She read everything which the library contained--poetry, -history, philosophy, fiction--and having exhausted these resources, she -turned her attention outside, and became an omnivorous devourer of -current literature. - -Before her "coming-out" party she was familiar with all the "up-to-date" -books, and had opinions on many problems, sexual and otherwise, though -be it said she was an eminently proper young person in her language and -behavior, and her knowingness, so far as appeared, was merely -intellectual. Early in the day her father's scrutiny was forever dazzled -by the assuring discovery that she was immersed in Scott. Mr. Arnold had -been told by some of his contemporaries that the rising generation did -not read Sir Walter, a heresy so damnable that when he found his -daughter pale with interest over the sorrows of the "Bride of -Lammermoor," he jumped to the conclusion that her literary taste was -conservative, and gave no more thought to this feature of her education. -Presently he did what he considered the essentially paternal -thing--introduced her to the social world through the medium of a -magnificent ball, which taxed his income though he had been preparing -for it for a year or two. As one of a bevy of pretty, innocent-looking -maidens in white tulle, Lydia attracted favorable comment from the -outset by her piquant expression and stylish figure. But shortly after -the close of her first season she was driven into retirement by her -father's death, and when next she appeared on the horizon, sixteen -months later, it was as a spirited follower of the hounds belonging to -the Westfield Hunt Club. - -On the crisp autumn day when this story opens, the members of that -energetic body were eagerly discussing the interesting proposition -whether or not Miss Lydia Arnold was going to accept Herbert Maxwell as -a husband. This was the universal query, and the point had been agitated -for the past six weeks with increasing curiosity. The hunting season was -now nearing its close, and the lover was still setting a tremendous -pace, but none of the closest feminine friends of the young woman in -question appeared to have inside information. Even her bosom friend, -Mrs. Walter Cole, as she joined the meet that morning, could only say in -answer to inquiries that Lydia was mum as an oyster. - -"I suppose the reflection that the offspring might resemble Grandma -Maxwell tends to counteract the glamour of the four millions," remarked -one of the group, Gerald Marcy, a middle-aged bachelor with a partiality -for cynical sallies--also an ex-master of the hounds and one of the -veterans of the colony. He was mounted on a solid roan hunter slightly -but becomingly grizzled like himself. Thereupon he gave a twist to his -mustache, as he was apt to do after uttering what he thought was a good -thing. Most of the Westfield Hunt Club were clean-shaven young men who -regarded a mustache as a hirsute superfluity. The nucleus of the club -had been formed twenty years previous--in the late seventies--at which -time it was the fashion to wear hair on the face, but of the small band -of original members some had grown too stout or too shaky to hunt, most -had families which forbade them to run the risk of breaking their -necks, and others were dead. - -Mrs. Cole's reply was uttered so that only Marcy heard it. Perhaps she -feared to shock the smooth-shaven younger men, for, though she prided -herself on her complete sophistication in regard to the world and its -ways, one evidence of it was that she suited her conversation to the -person with whom she was talking. There are points of view which a young -matron can discuss with a middle-aged bachelor which might embarrass or -be misinterpreted by less experienced males. So she caused her pony to -bound a little apart before she said to Marcy, who followed her: - -"I doubt very much if children of her own are included in Lydia's scheme -of life." - -Mrs. Cole was a bright-eyed, vivacious woman, who talked fast and -cleverly. She was fond of making paradoxical remarks, and of defending -her theses stoutly. She glanced sideways at her companion to observe the -effect of this animadversion, then, bending, patted the neck of her -palfrey caressingly. She was herself the mother of two chubby infants, -and, out of deference to domestic claims, she no longer followed the -hounds, but simply took a morning spin to the meets on a safe hack. - -Marcy smiled appreciatively. As a man of the world he felt bound to do -this, yet as a man of the world he felt shocked at the hypothesis. Race -suicide was in his eyes a cardinal sin compared with which youthful -indiscretions resulting from hot blood appeared trifling and normal. -Besides, it was deliberate rebellion against the vested rights of man. -This latter consideration gave the cue to his slightly dogged answer. - -"I rather think that Herbert Maxwell would have something to say about -that." - -Mrs. Cole surveyed him archly, meditating a convincing retort, when -suddenly a new group of riders appeared over the crest of an intervening -hill. "Here they are!" she cried with a gusto which proclaimed that the -opportunity for subtle confabulation on the point at issue was at an -end. - -The newcomers, all ardent hunting spirits--Mr. and Mrs. Andrew -Cunningham, Miss Peggy Blake, Miss Lydia Arnold, Guy Perry and Herbert -Maxwell--came speeding forward at a brisk gallop. Mrs. Cunningham--May -Cunningham--was a short, dumpy woman, amiable and popular, but hard -featured, as though she had burned the candle in social comings and -goings in her youth, which indeed was the case. But since her marriage -she had by way of settling down fixed her energies on cross-country -riding, and was familiarly known as the mother of the hunt. She had an -excellent seat. She and her husband, a burly sportsman whose ruling -passion was to reduce his weight below two hundred pounds, and whose -predilection for gaudy effects in waistcoats and stocks always pushed -the prevailing fashion hard, were prime movers in the Westfield set. -They had no children, and, as Mrs. Cole once said, it sometimes seemed -as though the hounds took the place of them. - -Miss Peggy Blake was a breezy Amazon, comely, long-limbed and -enthusiastic, of many adjectives but simple soul, whose hair was apt to -tumble down at inopportune moments, but who stuck at nothing which -promised fresh physical exhilaration. Guy Perry, a young broker who had -made a fortune in copper stocks, was one of her devoted swains. But -dashingly as she rode, her carriage lacked Lydia Arnold's distinction -and witchery. Indeed, that slight, dainty young person seemed a part of -the animal, so gracefully and jauntily did she follow the movements of -her rangy, spirited thoroughbred. When Gerald Marcy exclaimed fervently, -"By Jove, but she rides well!" no one of the awaiting group was doubtful -as to whom he meant. - -Keeping as close to his Dulcinea as he could, but not quite abreast, -came Herbert Maxwell, a rather lumbering equestrian. Fashion had led -him, the previous season, as a young man with great possessions, to -follow the hounds, but sedately, as became a somewhat sober novice. Love -now spurred him to take the highest stone walls, and for the purpose he -had bought a couple of famous hunters. He had long ago dismissed both -fear and caution, and had eyes only for the nape of Miss Arnold's neck -as they sped over hill and dale. Twice in the last six weeks he had come -a cropper, as the phrase is, and been cut up a bit, but he still rode -valiantly, bent on running the risk of a final tumble which would break -not his ribs but his heart. In every-day life he appeared large and -above the average height, with reddish-brown hair and eyebrows and a -somewhat grave countenance--rather a nondescript young man, but entirely -unobjectionable; the sort of personality which, as Lydia's friends were -saying, a clever woman could mould into a solid if not ornamental social -pillar. - -For Herbert Maxwell was a new man. That is, the parents of the members -of the Westfield Hunt Club remembered his father as a dealer in -furniture, selling goods in his own store, a red-visaged round-faced, -stubby looking citizen with a huge standing collar gaping at the front. -Though he had grown rich in the process, settled in the fashionable -quarter of the city and sent his boy to college in order to make -desirable friends and get a good education, it could not be denied that -he smelt of varnish metaphorically if not actually, and that Herbert -was, so to speak, on the defensive from a social point of view. -Everybody's eye was on him to see that he did not make some "break," and -inasmuch as he was commonly, if patronizingly, spoken of as "a very -decent sort of chap," it may be taken for granted that he had managed to -escape serious criticism. His sober manner was partly to be accounted -for by his determination to keep himself well in hand, which had been -formed ten years previous, during his Freshman year, when one of his -classmates, to the manner born, informed him in a moment of frankness -that he was too loud-mouthed for success. - -This had been the turning-point in his career; he had been toning down -ever since; he had been cultivating reserve, checking all temptations -toward extravagance of speech, deportment or dress, and, in short, had -become convincingly repressed--that is, up to the hour of his -infatuation for Lydia Arnold. Since then he had let himself go, yet not -indecorously, and with due regard to the proprieties. All the world -loves a lover, and to the Westfield Hunt Club Herbert Maxwell's kicking -over the bars of colorless conventionality appeared both pardonable and -refreshing, especially as it was recognized that the manifestations of -his ardor, though unmistakable, had not been lacking in taste. The -sternest censors of society had not the heart to sneer at the possessor -of four millions because the entertainments which he gave in his lady -love's honor were more sumptuous than the occasion demanded, and that in -his solicitude to keep up with her on the hunting field he was an easy -victim to the horse-dealers. Before the bar of nice judgment it was -tacitly admitted that he appeared to better advantage than if he had -ambled after his goddess with the lacklustre indifference which some of -his betters were apt to affect. It takes one to the manner born to be -listless in love and yet prevail; and so it was that Maxwell's reversion -to breakneck manners had given a pleasant thrill to this fastidious -colony. - -Gay greetings and felicitations on the beauty of the day for hunting -purposes were exchanged between the new-comers and their friends. The -men in their red coats had a word of gallantry or chaff for every woman. -New equestrians appeared approaching from diverse directions, while -suddenly from the kennels a few rods distant issued a barking, snuffing -pack of eager hounds, conducted by Kenneth Post, the master, whose -expansive high white stock and shining black leather boots proclaimed -that he took his functions seriously. This was a red-letter day for him, -as he had invited the hunt to breakfast with him at the club-house -after the run. - -Lydia, on her arrival, had guided her thoroughbred to the other side of -Mrs. Cole so deftly that her admirer was shut out from immediate -pursuit. At a glance from her the two women's heads bent close together -in scrutiny of some disarrangement in her riding-habit. - -"Fanny," she whispered, "I've done it." - -"Lydia! When did it happen?" - -"Last evening. I've given him permission to announce it at the -breakfast." - -"My dear, I'm just thrilled. You've kept us all guessing." - -"I've heard that the betting was even," answered Lydia with dry -complacency. The intimation that she had kept the world in the dark was -evidently agreeable. "I wished you to know first of all." - -"That was lovely of you. And how clever to escape the bore of writing -all those hateful notes! That was just like you, Lydia." - -"I know a girl who wrote two hundred, and the day they were ready to be -sent out changed her mind. I don't wish to run the risk. Here comes Mr. -Marcy." - -Fannie Cole gave her hand an ecstatic squeeze and they lifted their -heads to meet the common enemy, man. It was time to start, and he was -solicitous lest something were wrong with Miss Arnold's saddle girths. - -"Beauty in distress?" he murmured with a tug at his mustache. Marcy had -his commonplace saws, like most of us. - -Mrs. Cole was opening her mouth to reassure him on that score when she -was forestalled by Lydia. - -"That's a question, Mr. Marcy, which can be more easily answered a year -or two hence." - -Marcy bowed low in his saddle. "At your pleasure, of course. I did not -come to pry." At his best Marcy had quick perceptions and could put two -and two together. He was assisted to the divination that something was -in the wind by catching sight at the moment of Herbert Maxwell's -countenance. That worthy had been blocked in his progress by pretty Mrs. -Baxter, who, having resented his attempt to squeeze past her by the -following remark, had barred his way with her horse's flank. - -"We all know where you are heading, Mr. Maxwell, but as a punishment for -endeavoring to shove me aside you must pay toll by talking to me for a -little." - -The culprit had started and stared like one awakened in his sleep, and -stammered his apologies to his laughing tormentor. But while she kept -him at bay, his eyes could not help straying beyond her toward the woman -of his heart, and it was their peculiar expression which drew from Marcy -the remark which he referred to later as an inspiration. - -"It's not exactly pertinent to the subject, Miss Arnold, but Herbert -Maxwell has the look this morning of having seen the Holy Grail." - -Lydia calmly turned her graceful head in the direction indicated, then -facing her interrogator, said oracularly after a pause: "The wisest men -are liable to see false visions. But provided they are happy, does it -really matter, Mr. Marcy?" - -Whereupon, without waiting for a response to this Delphic utterance, -she tapped her thoroughbred with her hunting crop and cantered forward -to take her place in the van of those about to follow the hounds. - - - - -II - - -Mrs. Walter Cole was glad to find herself alone after the hounds were -off. Without waiting to be joined by any women, who, like herself, had -come to see the start and intended to jog on the flank, cut corners and -so be in at the finish, she put her hack at a brisk canter in the -direction of a neighboring copse, seeking a bridle-path through the -woods which would bring her out not far from the club-house after a -pleasant circuit. She was indeed thrilled, and, inasmuch as she must -remain tongue-tied, she could not bear the society of her sex, and -sought solitude and reverie. And so Lydia had done it. Intimate as they -were, she had been kept guessing like the rest, and up to the moment of -the disclosure of the absorbing confidence she had never been able to -feel sure whether Lydia would or not. Lydia married! And if so? She -would have been sure to marry some day; and to marry an entirely -reputable and presentable man with four millions was, after all, an -eminently normal proceeding. - -Yet somehow it was one thing to think of her as liable to marry, another -to recognize that she was actually engaged. It was the concrete reality -of Lydia Arnold married and settled which set Mrs. Cole's nimble brain -spinning with speculative, sympathetic interest as the dry autumn leaves -cracked under the hoofs of her walking horse, to which she had given a -loose rein. Lydia had such highly evolved ideas of her own; and how -would they accord with the connubial relation? Not that she knew these -ideas in specific detail, for Lydia had never hinted at a system; but -from time to time in the relaxations of spirit intimacy there had been -droppings--flashes--innuendoes, which had set the world in a new light, -blazed the path as it were for a new feminine philosophy, and which to a -clever woman like herself, fastened securely by domestic ties to the -existing order of things, were alike entertaining and suggestive. Mrs. -Cole drew a deep breath, as once more recurred to her sundry remarks -which had provided her already that morning with material for causing no -less experienced a person than Mr. Gerald Marcy to prick up his ears. -She and her husband had set up housekeeping on a humble scale--almost -poverty from the Westfield point of view--and she remembered the -contemplative silence more eloquent than words when, three years -previous, hungry for enthusiasm, she had taken Lydia into the nursery to -admire her first-born. All her other unmarried friends had gone into -ecstasies over baby, as became true daughters of Eve. Lydia, after long -scrutiny, had simply said: - -"Well, dear, I suppose you think it's worth while." - -Thus wondering how Lydia would deal with the problems of matrimony, and -almost bursting with her secret, Mrs. Cole walked her horse until the -novelty of the revelation had worn off a little. When she left the -covert at a point suggested by the baying of the dogs, she caught a -glimpse of the hunt on the opposite side of the horizon to that where it -had disappeared from view. Assuming that the finish was likely to occur -in the meadow lands in the rear of the club-house, she proceeded to -gallop briskly across the intervening valley in the hope of anticipating -the hounds. Time, however, had slipped away faster than she supposed. At -all events, when she was still some little distance from the field which -was her destination she beheld the hounds scampering down the slope from -the woodlands beyond. A moment later the air resounded with their -yelpings as they attacked the raw meat provided as a reward for the -deceit imposed on them by the anise-seed scent. Close on their heels -came the Master and the leading spirits of the chase, and by the time -Mrs. Cole arrived the entire hunt had put in an appearance or been -accounted for, and was proceeding leisurely toward the club, gayly -comparing notes on the incidents of the run. There had been amusing -casualties. Douglas Hale's horse, having failed to clear a ditch, had -tossed its ponderous rider over its head--happily without serious -consequences--and in the act of floundering out had planted a shower of -mud on the person of Guy Perry, so that the ordinarily spruce young -broker was a sight to behold. - -The Westfield Hunt Club was one of a number of social colonies in the -eastern section of the country which in the course of the last -twenty-five years have come into being and flourished. Three principal -causes have contributed to their evolution: the increase in wealth and -in the number of people with comfortable means, the growing partiality -for outdoor athletic sports, and the tendency on the part of those who -could afford two homes to escape the stuffy air of the cities during as -many months as possible, and on the part of young couples with only one -home to set up their household gods in the country. Our ancestors of -consideration were apt to hug the cities and towns. Their summer -excursions to the seaside rarely began before July, and fathers of -families preferred to be safe at home before the brewing of the -equinoxial storm. But the towering bricks and mortar and increasing -pressure of urban life have little by little prolonged the season of -emancipation in the fresh air, and spacious modern villas, with many -bath-rooms and all the modern improvements, have supplanted the -primitive cottages of the former generation, just as the rank fields of -gay butter-cups and daisies have given place to velvety lawns, extensive -stables, and terraced Italian gardens. - -The Westfield Hunt Club was primarily a sporting colony--that is, -outdoor sport was its ruling passion. Cross-country riding had been its -first love, at a time when the free-born farmers of the neighborhood -looked askance at the introduction of what they considered dudish -British innovations. Yet it promptly offered hospitality to the rising -interest in sports of every kind, and the devotees of tennis, polo and -golf found there ample accommodation for the pursuit of their favorite -pastimes. - -At the date of our narrative the interest in tennis was at a minimum; -polo, always a sport in which none but the prosperous few can afford to -shine, had only a small following; but golf was at the height of its -fashionable ascendency. Everybody was playing golf, not only the young -and supple, the middle-aged and persevering, but every man however -clumsy and every woman however feeble or gawky who felt constrained to -follow the latest social fad as a law of his or her being. Every links -in the country was crowded with agitated followers of the royal and -ancient game, who bought clubs galore in the constant hope of acquiring -distance and escaping bunkers, and who were alternately pitied and -bullied by the attendant army of caddies, sons of the small farmers -whose views regarding British innovations had been substantially -modified by the accompanying shower of American quarters and dimes. - -Indeed, it may be said that the attitude of the country-side regarding -all the doings of the colony had undergone a gradual but complete -change. This was due to the largess and social tact of the new-comers. -To begin with, they were eager to pay roundly for the privilege of -trampling down crops and riding through fences. Having thus put matters -on a liberal pecuniary basis, they endeavored to translate grim -forbearance for business reasons into a more genial frame of mind by -horse shows with popular features, and country fairs where fat prizes -for large vegetables and free dinners bore testimony to the good-will of -the promoters. A ball at which the pink-coated male members of the club -danced with the farmers' wives and daughters, and Mrs. Andrew -Cunningham, with a corps of fair assistants, stood up with the country -swains while they cut pigeon-wings in utter gravity, was an annual sop -to local sensibilities and a bid for popular regard. Little by little -the neighborhood had thawed. Surely the new-comers must be good -fellows, if Westfield's tax receipts were growing in volume without -demur, and there was constantly increasing employment for the people not -only on the public roads, but in carpentry, plumbing, and all sorts of -jobs on the new places, besides a splendid market for their sheep and -chickens and garden produce. From Westfield's standpoint the ways of -some of these individuals with "money to burn" were puzzling, but if -grown-up folk could find amusement in chasing a little white ball across -country, the common sense of Westfield could afford to be indulgent -under existing circumstances. - -The quarters to which the hunting party now repaired in gay spirits was, -as its appearance indicated, a farm-house of ancient aspect, which had -been altered over to begin with, and been amplified later to suit the -greater requirements of the club. The rambling effect of the low-studded -rooms had been enhanced by sundry wings and annexes, the result of which -was far from convincing architecturally, but which suggested a quaint -cosiness very satisfying and precious to the original members. Progress, -reform, innovation--call it what you will--was already rife in the -colony itself, a case, it would seem, of refining gold or painting the -lily. One had only to observe the more elaborate character of the new -houses to be convinced of this. The pioneers had been content to leave -the original structures standing, and to do them over with new plumbing -and new wall-papers. Then it occurred to some one richer than his -fellows, or whose wife remembered the scriptural admonition against -putting new wine into old bottles, to pull down an ancient farm-house -and replace it with a comely modern villa. The villa was simple and an -ornament to the landscape, and though the wiseacres shook their heads -and described it as an entering wedge, the general consensus of the -colony declared it an improvement. Others followed suit, and within two -years there was a dozen of these pleasant-looking homes in the vicinity. - -But latterly a new tendency had manifested itself. Three sportsmen of -large possessions, who had decided to spend most of the year in the -country, had erected establishments on an imposing scale, very spacious, -very stately, with extensive stables and all the appurtenances befitting -a magnificent country-seat. As the owners were building simultaneously, -there had naturally been some rivalry to produce the most imposing -result. The effect of these splendors was already perceptible. Others -with large possessions were talking of invading Westfield, land was -rising in value, and it cost the colony more to entertain. Most terrible -of all to the pioneers, there was unconcealed whispering that the -club-house must come down and be replaced by a convenient modern -structure; that more commodious stables were needed; that the golf links -should be materially lengthened, and that both the annual dues and the -membership must be increased to help provide for these improvements. As -a consequence most of the old members were irate on the subject, and -Gerald Marcy was quoted as having said that to do away with the original -quarters would be an act of sacrilege. - -"Are not the rafters sacred from time-honored association?" he had -inquired in a voice trembling with emotion. - -"Principally with champagne," had been Guy Perry's comment on this -fervent apostrophe. Youth is fickle and partial to change. Guy voiced -the sentiment of the younger element in craving modern comfort and -conveniences, which could be obtained by demolishing the old -rattle-trap, as the less conservative styled it, and putting up a clean, -commodious, attractive-looking club-house. Guy himself had given out -that his firm was ready to underwrite the bonds necessary to finance all -the proposed changes. Thus it will be seen that at this period social -conditions at Westfield were in a condition of ferment and change, -although the colony was still youthful. Yet differences of opinion were -merged on this particular morning in the enjoyment of sport and the -crisp autumn weather. The returning members of the hunt found at the -club-house some of the golf players of both sexes, who had been invited -by the master of the hounds to join them at breakfast, and it was not -long before the company was seated at table. - -Everyone was hungry, and everyone seemed in good spirits. Conversation -flowed spontaneously, or, in other words, everyone seemed to be talking -at once. The host, Kenneth Post, finding himself free for a moment from -all responsibilities save to see that the waiters did their duty, -inasmuch as the woman on either side of him was exchanging voluble -pleasantries with someone else, cast a contented glance around the -mahogany. Personal badinage, as he well knew, was the current coin of -his set. The occasion on which it was absent or flagged was regarded as -dull. Subjects, ideas, theories bored his companions--especially the -women--as a social pastime. What they liked was to talk about people, to -gossip of one another's affairs or failings when separated, to discharge -at one another keen but good-humored chaff when they met. Naturally the -host was gratified by the universal chatter, for obviously his friends -were enjoying themselves. Nevertheless there seemed to be something in -the air not to be explained by the exhilaration resulting from the run -or by cocktails before luncheon. As he mused, his eyes fell on Herbert -Maxwell and he wondered. That faithful but solid equestrian was commonly -reticent and rather inert in speech, but now, with face aglow, he was -bandying words with Miss Peggy Blake and another young woman at the -same time. Post remembered that he had seen him take three drinks at the -bar, which for him was an innovation. The Master felt knowing, and -instinctively his eyes sought the countenance of Miss Arnold. It was -demure and furnished no clue to her admirer's mood, unless a faint smile -which suggested momentary content was to be regarded as an indication. - -While Kenneth Post was thus observing his guests he was recalled to more -active duties by Mrs. Andrew Cunningham, who, in her capacity of mother -of the hunt, had been placed at his right hand. Having finished her -soft-shell crab and emptied her quiver of timely shafts upon the young -man at her other elbow, she had turned to her host for a familiar chat -on the topic at that time nearest her heart. - -"I hope you're on our side, Mr. Post--that you are opposed to the new -order of things which would drive every one except millionaires out of -Westfield? Tell me that you intend to vote against pulling down this -dear old sanctuary. It's a rookery, if you like, but that's its charm. -Will anything they build take the place of it in our affections?" - -"We've had lots of good times here, of course, and I'm as fond of the -old place as anyone, but--the fact is, Mrs. Cunningham, I'm in a -difficult position. The younger men count on me in a way; it was they -who chose me master, and in a sense I'm their representative; so----" - -He paused, and allowed the ellipsis to convey an intimation of what he -might be driven to by the rising generation, to which he was more nearly -allied by age than to the older faction. - -Mrs. Cunningham looked up in his face in doughty expostulation. Her -round cheeks reminded him of ruddy but slightly withered crab-apples. -"The time has come for Andrew and me to pull up stakes, I fear. The life -here'll be spoiled. Everything is going up in price--land, servants, -marketing, horses, assessments." - -"That's the case everywhere, isn't it?" Kenneth was an easy-going -fellow, and preferred smiling acquiescence, but when taken squarely to -task he had the courage of his convictions. "The fellows wish more -comforts and facilities. There are next to no bathing accommodations at -present, and everything is cramped, and--and really it's so, if one -looks dispassionately--fusty." - -"I adore the fustiness." - -"Wait until you see the improvements. Mark my words, six months after -they are finished nothing would induce you to return to the old order -of things. We're sure of the money; the loan has been underwritten by a -syndicate." - -Mrs. Cunningham groaned. "Exactly. So has everything in Westfield, to -judge by appearances. The palaces erected by the Douglas Hales, the -Marburys, and Mr. Gordon Wallace have given the death-blow to simple -ways, and we shall soon be in the grip of a plutocracy. The original -band of gentlemen farmers who came here to get close to nature and to -one another are undone, have become back numbers, and"--she lowered her -voice to suit the exigencies--"in case Lydia Arnold accepts Herbert -Maxwell, she will not rest until she has something more imposing and -gorgeous than anything yet." - -Kenneth eagerly took advantage of the opportunity to divert the -emphasis to that ever-interesting speculation. - -"Have you any light to throw on the burning problem?" he asked. - -The mother of the hunt shook her head. "Mrs. Cole said to me only -yesterday, 'I've tried to make up my mind for her by putting myself in -her place and endeavoring to decide what conclusion I, with her -characteristics, would come to, and I find myself still wobbling, -because she's Lydia, and he's what he is, which would be eminently -desirable for some women, but----'" - -A sudden hush around the table prevented the conclusion of this -philosophic utterance. The sportsman of whom she was speaking had risen -with a brimming glass of champagne in one hand and was accosting the -master of the hounds. A general thrill of expectancy succeeded the -hush. What was he going to say? Speeches were not altogether unknown at -Westfield hunt breakfasts, but they were not apt to be so impromptu, nor -the contribution of such a negative soul as Herbert Maxwell. Gerald -Marcy, sitting next to Mrs. Cole, was prompted to repeat his observation -of the morning. "I was right," he whispered. "He has seen the Holy -Grail." - -"Wait--just wait," she answered tensely. _She_ knew what was going to -happen, and as her dark eyes vibrated deftly from Herbert's face to -Lydia's and back again, she longed for two pairs that she might not for -an instant lose the expression on either. Meanwhile the host had rapped -on the table and was saying encouragingly: - -"Our friend Mr. Herbert Maxwell desires to make a few remarks." - -"Hear--hear!" cried Douglas Hale raucously. His fall had obviously -dulled the nicety of his instincts, for everyone else was too curious to -utter a word--too rapt to invade the interesting silence. - -Maxwell had worn the air of a demi-god when he rose. A wave of -self-consciousness doubtless obliterated the introductory phrases which -he had learned by heart, for after a moment's painful silence he -suddenly blurted out: - -"I'm the happiest man in the world, and I want you all to know it." - -Here was the kernel of the whole matter. What better could he have said? -What more was there left to say? The riddle was solved, and the suspense -which had hung over Westfield like a cloud for many months was -dissolved in a rainbow of romance. There was no need of names; everybody -understood, and a shout of delight followed. Every woman in the room -shrieked her congratulations to the bride-to-be, and those nearest her -got possession of her person. Miss Peggy Blake was the nearest and hence -the first. - -"You dear thing! It's just splendid; the most intensely exciting thing -which ever happened!" she cried, throwing her arms around Lydia's neck. -In the embrace her hair, which had become loose during the run, fell -about her ears, and Guy Perry had to get down on his knees to find the -gilt hair-pins. There was a babel of superlatives, and delirious -feminine laughter; the men wrung the happy lover's hands or patted him -on the back. - -When the turmoil subsided Maxwell was still standing. Like St. Michael -over the prostrate dragon, he had planted his feet securely for once in -his life on the necks of the serpents Diffidence and Repression. He put -out his hand to invite silence. - -"I ask you to drink to the happiness of the loveliest woman in creation. -When a man worships a woman as I do her, and she has done him the honor -to plight him her troth, why shouldn't he bear witness to his love and -blazon her charms and virtues to the stars? God knows I'm going to make -her happy, if I can! To the happiness of my future wife, Miss Lydia -Arnold!" - -"All up!" cried the master, and as the company rose under the spell of -love's fervid invocation, he added authoritatively, "No heel taps!" - -As they drained their glasses and were in the act of sitting down, Guy -Perry conveyed the cordial sentiment of all present toward the proposer -of the toast and lover-elect by beginning to troll, - - - For he's a jolly good fellow-- - For he's a jolly good fellow. - - -Under cover of the swelling song Mrs. Walter Cole, fluttering in her -seat, and with her eyes fastened on Lydia's countenance, felt the need -of taking Gerald Marcy into her confidence. - -"I just wonder what she thinks of it. His letting himself go like that -is rather nice; but it isn't at all in her style. If she is truly in -love with him, it doesn't matter. But there she sits with that -inscrutable smile, perfectly serene, but not in the least worked up, -apparently. Our embraces didn't even ruffle her hair." - -"He has been repressing himself--been on his good behavior for years, -poor fellow," murmured Marcy. - -"I tell you I like his calling her the loveliest woman in creation and -thinking it. Such guileless fervor is much too rare nowadays. But what -effect will it have on Lydia, who knows she isn't? That is what is -troubling me. Unless she is deeply smitten, won't it bore her?" - -The question was but the echo of her spirit's wonder; she did not expect -a categorical response. Whatever good thing Gerald Marcy was meditating -in reply was nipped in the bud by an appeal to him for "Aunt Dinah's -Quilting Party" as a continuation of the outburst of song. He felt -obliged to comply, and yet was nothing loth, as it was one of the most -popular in his repertory, and was adapted to his sweet if somewhat -spavined tenor voice. - - - In the skies the bright stars glittered, - On the bank the pale moon shone, - And 'twas from Aunt Dinah's quilting party - I was seeing Nellie home. - - -So he sang with melodious precision, accompanying his performance with -that slight exaggeration of chivalric manner which distinguished the -rendering of his ditties. The words just suited the sensibilities of the -company, combining feeling with banter, and in full-voiced unison they -caught up the refrain: - - - I was seeing Nellie ho-o-me-- - I was seeing Nellie ho-o-me, - And 'twas from Aunt Dinah's quilting party - I was seeing Nellie home. - - -Laughing feminine eyes shot merry glances in the direction of Lydia, -and the red-coated sportsmen lifted their glasses in grandiloquent -apostrophe of the affianced pair. Andrew Cunningham, resplendent in a -canary-colored waistcoat with fine red bars, was heard to remark -confidentially, after ordering another whiskey and soda, that the -festivities which were certain to follow in the wake of this engagement -would add five pounds to his weight, which it had taken him two months -of Spartan abstemiousness to reduce three. - -Erect and sportsmanlike, Gerald continued, after an impressive sweep of -his hand to promote silence: - - - On my arm her light hand rested, - Rested light as o-o-cean's foam, - And 'twas from Aunt Dinah's quilting party - I was seeing Nellie home. - - -It was a red-letter day not only for the master of the hounds but for -Westfield's entire colony. Conjecture was at an end; the love-god had -triumphed; the announcement was a fitting wind-up to the exhilarating -hunting season. Yet amid the general congratulation and optimism some -philosophic souls like Mrs. Walter Cole did not forbear to wonder what -was to be the sequel. - - - - -III - - -Precise consideration by Lydia of her feelings for her betrothed--and -presently her husband, as they were married in the following -January--were rendered superfluous for the time being by the worship -which he lavished upon her. There were so many other things to think of: -first her engagement ring, which called forth ejaculations of envious -admiration from her contemporaries; then her trousseau, the costumes of -her bridesmaids, the details of the ceremony and the wedding breakfast, -and the important question whether the honeymoon was to be spent in -Europe. There was never any doubt as to this in Lydia's mind. After -deliberation she had decided on a winter passage by the Mediterranean -route to Nice and Cannes, followed by a summer in the Tyrol and -Switzerland, with a fortnight in Paris to repair the ravages in her -wardrobe made by changing fashion. It must not be understood that -Maxwell demurred to this attractive programme. He merely intimated that -if he remained at home and demonstrated what he called his serious side, -he would probably receive a nomination for the Legislature in the -autumn; that the party managers had predicted as much; and that the -favorable introduction into politics thus obtained might lead to -Congress or a foreign mission, as he had the means to live up to either -position worthily. - -Lydia listened alertly. "I should like you to go as ambassador to Paris -or London some day, of course, but to serve in the Legislature now -would scarcely conduce to that, Herbert. I've set my heart on going -abroad--I've never been but once, you know--and it's just the time to go -when we are building our two houses. Where should we live if we stayed -at home? The sensible plan is to store our presents, buy some tapestries -and old furniture on the other side, and come back in time to get the -autumn hunting at Westfield and inaugurate our two establishments." - -This settled the matter. The only real uncertainty had been whether she -did not prefer a trip around the world instead. But that would take too -long. She was eager to figure as the mistress of the most stately modern -mansion and the most consummate country house which money and -architectural genius could erect. These two houses were perhaps the most -engrossing of all among the many concerns which led her to postpone -precise analysis of her feelings to a period of greater leisure. That is -the exact quality of her love--whether it were eighteen carat or not, to -adopt a simile suggested to her by her wedding-ring. That she loved -Herbert sufficiently well to marry him was the essential point; and it -seemed futile to play hide-and-seek with her own consciousness over the -abstract proposition whether she could have loved someone else better, -especially as there were so many immediately pressing matters to -consider that both her physician and Herbert had warned her she was -liable, if not prudent, to fall a victim to that lurking ailment, -nervous prostration. - -It was certainly no slight responsibility to select the lot in town -which seemed to combine most advantages as the site for a residence. The -matter of the country house was much simpler, for who could doubt that -the ideal location was an expanse of undulating country, higher than the -rest of the neighborhood, known as Norrey's Farm? These fifty acres, -with woods appurtenant, were reputed to be out of the market unless to a -single purchaser. Many a pioneer had picked out Norrey's Knoll as his -choice, only to be thwarted by the owner with the assertion that he must -buy the whole farm or could have none. Later would-be purchasers had -recoiled before the price, which had kept not merely abreast but had -galloped ahead of current valuations, until it had become a by-word in -the colony that Farmer Norrey would bite his own nose off if he were -not careful. But the shrewd rustic was more than vindicated by the -upshot. Lydia, from the moment when she first seriously thought of -Herbert Maxwell as a husband, had cast sheeps' eyes at this stately -property, and within a short period after the engagement was announced -the title deeds passed. Rumor declared that the canny grantor had -divined that the opportunity of his life was at hand and had held out -successfully for still higher figures. But, as everybody cheerfully -remarked, ten thousand dollars more or less was but a flea-bite to -Herbert Maxwell. - -Then came the selection of the architects and divers inspections of -plans for the two establishments, which, to the joy of the bridegroom, -were interrupted by the wedding ceremony. They sailed, and their -honeymoon was somewhat of a social parade. Special quarters--the most -expensive and exclusive to be had--were engaged for them in advance on -steamships and in railroad trains, in hotels and wherever they appeared. -Maxwell's manifest tender purpose was to gratify his bride's slightest -whim, and in regard to the choice of the objects on which his ready -money was to be lavished he avoided taking the initiative except when an -occasional mania seized him to buy her costly gems on the sly. Otherwise -he danced attendance on her taste, which was discriminating and -perspicuous. Lydia yearned for distinction, not extravagance; for -superlative effects, not garishness. Her eye was on the lookout in -regard to all the affairs of life, from food to the manifestations of -art, for the note which accurately expressed elegant and fastidious -comfort and gave the rebuff to every-day results or the antics of -vulgarity. - -Consequently the wedding trip after the first surprises was but a change -of scene. There were still too many absorptions for retrospective -thought and nice balancing of soul accounts. At Nice and Cannes they -found themselves in a vortex of small gayeties. While travelling, Lydia -was on the alert to pick up old tapestries, porcelain, and other works -of art; in Paris, shopping and the dressmakers left no time for anything -but a daily lesson to put the finishing touch to her French. She had -said to herself that she would draw a trial balance of her precise -emotions when she was at rest on the steamer--for Lydia by instinct was -a methodical person; but a batch of letters reciting complications in -regard to the last details on the new houses was a fresh distraction, -and the society of several engaging men on the ship another. -Nevertheless the thought that she was nearing home struck her fancy -favorably, and on the evening before they landed she eluded everybody -else to seize her husband's arm for a promenade on deck. There was -elasticity in her step as she said, "Won't it be fun to be at Westfield -again, Herbert? I long for a good run with the hounds, and I'm beginning -to pine for the autumn colors and smells." - -"Yes, indeed. And we shall be settled at our own fireside at last," he -answered with a lover's animation. - -The remark recalled bothersome considerations to Lydia's mind. She felt -sure from the contents of the last packet of correspondence that the -architect had failed to carry out her instructions in several -instances. - -"Settled?" she echoed. "If we are settled a year from now we may -consider ourselves very fortunate." - -Lydia's immediate plans met with interruption from an unexpected source. -Before the hunting season had fairly begun it was privately whispered in -Westfield circles that a stork would presently visit the new -establishment on Norrey's Farm. Open inquiries from tactless -interrogators, why the Maxwells did not follow the hounds, were answered -by the explanation that the young people had so many matters to attend -to in connection with their two houses that they had decided to postpone -hunting to another year. Later it was known that they would pass the -winter in the country, and not furnish the town house until spring. -When the baby was actually born, in February, everyone knew that it was -expected; but the advent of the infant in the flesh caused a flutter -among Lydia's immediate feminine acquaintances. As soon as the mother -was able to receive visitors, Mrs. Walter Cole came down from town to -offer her warm felicitations and incidentally to satisfy the curiosity -of those who took an interest. She had arranged to lunch after the -interview with the Andrew Cunninghams, who lived all the year round at -Westfield, and thither at the close of the visit to her intimate friend -she repaired, replete with information. It happened to be Saturday, and -the master of the house had brought down Gerald Marcy by an early train -for a winter's afternoon tramp across country, so that the two women had -only a few minutes of unreserved conversation. - -"Well, she was just as one would have expected--Lydia all over," Mrs. -Cole began with the intensity of a pent-up stream which has regained its -freedom. "She looked sweet, and everything in her room and in the -nursery was bewitching, as though she had been preparing for the event -for years and doted on it. That's just like her, of course. She bemoaned -her fate at losing the hunting season, and she has decided not to nurse -the baby. As an experienced mother," continued Mrs. Cole -contemplatively, "I felt bound to remind her that there are two sides to -that question, and that I had nursed Toto and Jim not only because -Walter insisted on it, but to give the children the benefit of the doubt -as to any possible effect on character from being suckled by a stranger. -But she had thought it all out, and had her arguments at her fingers' -ends. She declared it a case of Anglo-Saxon prejudice, and that every -Frenchwoman of position sends her babies to a foster-mother. Of course -it _is_ a bother, and frightfully confining, but my husband wouldn't -hear of it, though half the mamas can't satisfy their babies anyway." - -Mrs. Cunningham nodded understandingly. "I daresay it's just as well. -And of course she regards the rest of us as old-fashioned. But tell me -about the baby." - -Mrs. Cole laughed. "You ought to have heard Lydia on the subject. She -talks of it in the most impersonal way, as though it belonged to someone -else or were a wedding present. I never cared much for babies before I -was married, but could not endure anyone who wouldn't make flattering -speeches about mine. Lydia's is a dear little thing as they go, and has -a fascinating wardrobe already, and I think she is rather devoted to it -in her secret soul, but one of the first things she said to me--before I -could get in a single compliment--was, 'She's the living image of -Grandma Maxwell, Fannie. She has her mouth and nose.' And the -embarrassing part was that it's true. The moment Lydia called my -attention to it I saw. Her eagle maternal eye had detected what the -ordinary mother would have failed to perceive. But it's Grandma Maxwell -to the life. 'Why evade the truth?' remarked Lydia after one of her -deliberate pauses. 'I shall name her for her, and I can discern in -advance that she will never be a social success.'" - -"Poor little thing!" murmured Mrs. Cunningham. Such an anathema so early -in life was certainly heart-rending. - -Mrs. Cole put her head on one side like an arch bird by way of -reflective protest. "It sounds dreadful, of course, but remember she's -Lydia. What she will really do will be to metamorphose her, body and -soul, so that by the time she is eighteen there will not be one trace of -Maxwell visible to the naked eye. See if I'm not right," she said with -the gusto of a brilliant inspiration which seemed to her a logical -defence of her friend. - -The arrival of the men interrupted the dialogue, but the general topic -was presently resumed from another point of view. Not many minutes had -elapsed after they sat down to luncheon before Gerald Marcy hazarded the -observation that, prophecies and innuendoes to the contrary -notwithstanding, events in the Maxwell household appeared to have -followed the course of nature. Mrs. Cole, to whom this remark was -directly addressed, ignored the sly impeachment of her abilities as a -seer, and, having finished her piece of buttered toast, said blandly: - -"I think Lydia is very happy." - -"I felt sure she would be tamed," continued Marcy with a tug at his -mustache. "I look to see her become a model of the domestic virtues." - -"Don't be too sure that she is tamed, Gerald," said Mrs. Cunningham. -"Lydia is Lydia." Perhaps the knowledge that she had been longing in -vain for years for a child of her own gave the cue to this slightly -brusk comment. - -"Lydia will never be exactly like the rest of us; that's her -peculiarity--virtue--what shall I call it?" interposed Mrs. Cole, -looking round the table with a philosophic air. "The rest of us demur -at conventions, but accept them in the end. She follows what she deems -the truth. I don't say that she is always right or that she doesn't do -queer things," she added by way of conservative qualification of her -bubbling encomium. - -"And how about Maxwell?" asked Andrew Cunningham, who had seemed -temporarily lost in the contemplation of his lobster salad so long as -any of that lusciously prepared viand remained on his plate. "Infatuated -as ever, I suppose," he added, sitting back in his chair and exposing -benignly his broad expanse of neckcloth and fancy check waistcoat. - -"Yes, and he ought to be, surely. But Lydia has a rival in the daughter -of the house," answered Mrs. Cole, reinspired by the inquiry. "He came -in just as I was leaving, and is almost daft on the subject of the -baby. If Lydia's ecstasy is somewhat below the normal, he more than -makes up for the deficiency. There never was such a proud parent. He -just 'chortled in his joy.' He discerns in her already all the graces -and virtues, and would like to do something at once--he doesn't know -exactly what--to bring them to the attention of an unappreciative world. -If it were a boy, he could put his name down on the waiting lists at the -clubs, but as she is only a girl, he must content himself with hanging -over her crib for the present." - -"Only a girl!" echoed Marcy. "Born with a golden spoon in her mouth, an -heiress to all the virtues and graces, and predestined doubtless, like -her mother, to rest her dainty foot upon the neck of man. Nevertheless, -as I have already prophesied, I am inclined to think that the yoke--now -a double yoke--will not bear too severely on Maxwell, though it may not -yield him the bliss which we unregenerate bachelors are wont to -associate with the ideal marital relation." - -"Hear--hear!" exclaimed Andrew Cunningham. "You need some further liquid -refreshment after that silver-tongued sophistry, Gerald.--Mary," he said -to the maid, "pass the whiskey and soda to Mr. Marcy." - -Mrs. Cole put her head on one side. "I have my doubts whether the ideal -marital relation is a modern social possibility--the strictly ideal such -as you bachelors mean," she added, feeling, doubtless, as the wife of a -man to whom she had described herself in heart-to-heart talks with other -women--not many, for she eschewed the subject ordinarily as sacred--as -deeply attached, that this homily on wedlock needed a qualifying tag. - -But May Cunningham was not in the mood to become a party to even so -tempered an imputation on connubial happiness. "Speak for yourself, -Fannie," she said sturdily. "Ideals or no ideals, Andrew and I trot in -double harness better than any single animal of my acquaintance." - -"Listen to the old woman, God bless her!" exclaimed the master of the -house, raising his tumbler and smiling at his better-half with -chivalrous expansiveness. - -Mrs. Cole was a little nettled at Mrs. Cunningham's obtuseness--wilful -obtuseness, it seemed to her. As though the subtle social problem -suggested by her was to be solved by a reference to the homely affection -of this amiable but limited couple! She sighed and murmured, "Everyone -knows, my dear, that you and Andrew are as happy as the day is long. But -I'm afraid that you don't understand exactly what I meant." - -Mrs. Cunningham compressed her lips ominously. She felt that she -understood perfectly well, and that it was simply another case of Fannie -Cole's nonsense. But any retort she may have been meditating was averted -by the timely and genial inspiration of her husband. - -"One thing is certain," he said: "we all know that our Gerald is the -ideal bachelor." - -This assertion called forth cordial acquiescence from both the ladies, -and turned the current of the conversation into a smoother channel. The -subject of the remark bowed decorously. - -"In this company I am free to admit that I sometimes sigh in secret for -a happy home. Yet even venerable bachelorhood has its compensations. By -the way," he added, "our colony at Westfield is likely to have an -addition to its stud of bachelors. I hear that Harry Spencer is coming -home." - -"Harry Spencer? How interesting," cried the two women in the same -breath. - -"The fascinator," continued Mrs. Cole with slow, sardonic articulation. - -"To break some other woman's heart, I suppose," said Mrs. Cunningham. - -"And yet it is safe to say that he will be received with open arms by -your entire sex, including the present company," remarked Gerald with a -tug at his mustache. - -The sally was received with pensive silence as a deduction apparently -not to be gainsaid. - -"He is very agreeable," said Mrs. Cunningham flatly. - -"And extremely handsome," said Mrs. Cole. "Not the type of manly beauty -which would cause my mature heart to flutter, but dangerous to the -youthful imagination. He used to look like a handsome pirate, and if he -had whispered honeyed words to me instead of to Laura--who knows?" - -"Poor Laura!" - -"They had neither of them a cent; there was nothing for him to do but -withdraw. And yet there is no doubt he broke her heart, though there is -consumption in her family." Mrs. Cole knit her brows over this attempt -on her part to formulate complete justice. - -"He's a woman's man," said Andrew Cunningham. He had stepped to the -mantel-piece to fill his pipe, and having uttered this fell speech, he -lit it and smoked for some moments in silence with his back to the -cheerful wood fire before proceeding. No one had seen fit to contradict -him. The gaps between his assertions and the subsequent explanations -thereof were expected and rarely interrupted. "He does everything -well--rides, shoots, plays rackets, golf, cards--is infernally -good-looking, as you say, has a pat speech and a flattering eye for -every woman he looks at, and yet somehow he has always struck me as a -_poseur_. I wouldn't trust him in a tight place, though he prides -himself on his sporting blood. It may be prejudice on my part. Gerald -likes him, I believe, because he is a keen rider and always has a good -mount. He always has the best of everything going, but what does he live -on anyway?" - -"Wild oats, perhaps," suggested Marcy. But he hastened to atone for -this levity by adding, "He had a little money from his mother, while it -lasted, and just after he and Miss Wilford drifted apart, I am told that -he followed a tip from Guy Perry on copper stocks and cleaned up enough -to enable him to travel round the world." - -"Poor Laura!" interjected Mrs. Cole. "What a pity he didn't get a tip -earlier!" - -"It wasn't enough to marry on," said Marcy, "and it's probably mostly -gone by this time." - -"That's the sort of thing I complain of," exclaimed Cunningham. "I'm no -martinet in morals, Heaven knows, but I always feel a little on my guard -with fellows who live by their wits and spend like princes. Confound it, -you know it isn't quite respectable even in a free country." Andrew -spoke with a wag of his head as though he expected to be adjudged an old -fogy for this conservative utterance. - -"He's an attractive fellow on the surface anyway," answered Marcy after -a pause, "and will be an addition from the hunting standpoint. And--give -the devil his due, Andrew--if he was looking for money only, there were -several heiresses he might have married. That would have made him -irreproachable at once." - -Mrs. Cole drew a long breath. "Perfectly true, Mr. Marcy. I never -thought of it before. Harry Spencer doesn't look at a woman twice unless -he admires her, no matter how rich she is. He could have married -several, of course, if he had tried." - -"Dozens. That's the humiliating part of it," assented Mrs. Cunningham. - -"When he is ready to settle down that's what he'll do--pick out some -woman with barrels of money," said Andrew. Having once got a proposition -in his head he was wont to stick to it tenaciously, like a puppy to a -root. - -"You misjudge him--you misjudge him!" cried Mrs. Cole eagerly. "He won't -do anything of the kind. He will never marry any woman unless she has -money--or he has; that I'm ready to admit. But, on the other hand, he'll -never ask anyone to marry him unless he loves her for herself alone, -and--and," she continued with a gasp born of the thrill which the -definiteness of her insight caused her, "there are very few women in the -world whom he is liable to fall in love with. That's what makes him so -interesting. He is polite to us all, but the majority of women bore him -at heart." - -Marcy laughed. "A masterly diagnosis," he said. "And now that he has -seen the world and is returning heart-free, so far as we know, there -will naturally be curiosity as to how he will bear the ordeal of a fresh -contact with native loveliness." - -"Exactly," said the two women together, and with an engaging frankness -which quite overshadowed the grunt by which the master of the house -indicated his suspicious dissent from this exposition of character. - - - - -IV - - -Harry Spencer had been travelling nearly three years. Naturally, he -found some changes and some new faces at Westfield. Concerning the -former he was becomingly appreciative. He promptly ranged himself on the -side of progress, admired the new club-house and the new establishments -in the neighborhood, and evinced a willingness to take an active part in -the enlarged energies of the club. During his peregrinations in foreign -lands he had visited the St. Andrew's golf links, and he had views -regarding bunkers and other features of the game which he was prepared -to advocate. When he had left home the bicycle was all the rage, and -some portion of his journeyings had been on an up-to-date machine. But -he found now that the fashionable portion of the community had dropped -this craze, and that to ride a "wheel" was beginning to be considered a -bore except as a means of getting from one place to another. The fever -of golf was rampant instead, and had reached the stage where its -votaries were almost delirious in their devotion, notably the people -most unfitted to play the game, and who had taken it up in order to be -in fashion. During the spring and summer following his return the -improved links at Westfield was crowded with players of every grade -whose proficiency was generally in reverse proportion to the number of -clubs they carried. - -Soon after the season had fairly opened and the greens were in good -order the lately returned wanderer found himself one morning engaged in -giving a lesson in the royal and ancient game to Miss Peggy Blake, who -had a severe attack of the disease and promised to be a proficient -pupil, for Dobson, the professional at the Hunt Club, had declared that -she had a free swing and could follow through as well as most men. The -trouble at the moment was that, after taking a free swing, she either -failed to hit the ball altogether or hit it off at some distressing -angle. As she explained volubly to everybody, until within a week she -had been making screaming brassie shots which carried a hundred and -fifty yards, but had suddenly lost her game completely. Harry had kindly -offered himself as a coach, a delightful proposition to the blithe young -woman, especially as Dobson was engaged for the time being in -superintending the primary and elephantine efforts of Miss Ella Marbury, -the stout maiden sister of Wagner Marbury, the Western -multi-millionnaire and proprietor of one of the new neighboring palaces -so obnoxious to Mrs. Cunningham. Miss Peggy was more than pleased to -have for an hour or two the uninterrupted companionship of this -good-looking and redoubtable gallant, whose attentions were to be -regarded as a feather in her cap, and who would doubtless be able to -tell her what she was doing wrong. - -Hers was one of the new faces, and Harry had given his following to -understand that he admired her spirited and comely personality. "Miss -West Wind" he had christened her genially, and the epithet had spread -with the rumor that he had noticed her. Yet it was tacitly understood -that he had no intention of interfering with the suit of his friend Guy -Perry, who was supposed to be well in the lead of the other pursuers of -the breezy maiden. Yet, though he sought to give the impression that his -favor in this case was merely an artistic tribute and that he still -walked scatheless in the world of women, he was glad of an opportunity -to stroll over the links in her society. She would entertain him. -Besides, she was a fluent talker, and he could count on her retailing -for his edification more or less of the current history of Westfield -written between the lines, which was only to be picked up gradually by -one who had been prevented by absence from personal observation. - -It was a very simple matter to detect the trouble with his companion's -stroke. - -"You don't keep your eye on the ball, Miss Blake. That's the whole -trouble with you. Anyone can see that." - -Peggy looked incredulous. "If there is one special thing more than -another which I try to bear constantly in mind, it is to keep my eye on -the ball. Do I really take it off, Mr. Spencer? Of course you must know. -There are so many other things to remember, but I did think I was -completely disciplined on that point. Watch me now." - -Thereupon she proceeded to execute a dashing stroke, her evident -standard being to carry her club through with such velocity as to bring -the head round her left shoulder and cause her to execute a pirouette -like the pictures of the golfing girls in the magazines. The ball flew -off at a tangent and narrowly missed her own caddy. - -"How rotten!" she murmured. "I had both my eyes glued on the ball, and -you see what happened. And only a week ago I was driving like a streak." -Her expletive was merely the popular phrase of the day by which golden -youth of both sexes was apt to express even trivial dissatisfaction. - -She was a pathetic figure of distress. Her exertions had heightened her -color so that it suggested the poppy rather than the rose, and was not -unlike the hue of her trig golfing garment. She swept back a stray -ringlet which had escaped from under her hat. "You see I have lost my -game utterly, Mr. Spencer." - -Harry laughed. "You were looking at me out of the corners of your eyes -that time. Lower your lids until you exaggerate the modest maiden and -don't move your head." It was a half-deferential, half-sardonic voice -with a caressing touch, indicating temporary devotion to the -subject-matter in hand which was flattering. "Swing more easily," he -added, "and don't try to rival the Gibson girl until you recover -confidence." Then he corrected slightly her stance and the position of -her hands--all with a deft yet bantering grace of manner which soothed -and attracted her. He went through the correct motions of the stroke for -her enlightenment, and as he stood erect and supple Peggy did not -forbear to reflect that he was very handsome. How dark his hair and eyes -were! It was a bold sort of beauty, and, though he wore neither mustache -nor beard, the faintly bluish tinge of his complexion betrayed that, but -for the barber, he would have been what Mrs. Herbert Cole might have -termed an incarnate symphony in black. He appeared harmoniously -muscular. He executed the necessary movements with lithe, nervous -energy, focusing his attention tensely for the brief occasion. The -moment he lowered his club he regained his leisurely and rather indolent -demeanor. - -His pupil essayed to follow his instructions. At the third attempt the -ball sailed straight as an arrow to a moderate distance, which comforted -the performer, but she felt too nervously excited to exult. It might be -only an accident. - -"Try again," he said confidentially. "You've almost got it." - -Once more the ball shot correctly from the club. Harry stooped and -placed another on the tee. Peggy swung, then followed through with a -little of her old elasticity. It flew like a rifle bullet low and long -across the distant bunker. - -She rose on the tips of her toes as she followed its entrancing flight. -"I've got back my game," she cried jubilantly. "You've saved my life, -Mr. Spencer." She looked as though she would have been glad, had -convention permitted, to throw her arms around her benefactor's neck. -And to the true golfer it would not seem an exaggerated reward. "I've -been in the slough of despond for nearly a week, and playing worse every -day. Now I'm in the seventh heaven, and it's all your doing." - -He acknowledged the exuberant gratitude with a graceful mock heroic bow. -"I shall consider my terms. The charge should be considerable." - -Just then by the sheerest chance a white carnation which Peggy was -wearing at her throat became detached from her dress and fell to the -ground. He picked it up, and, holding it before him and looking into her -eyes, said with melodious assurance: - -"I will keep this, if I may, as my tuition fee." - -Peggy looked embarrassed and let fall her eyes, albeit not easily -disconcerted. The carnation was one from a bunch which Guy Perry had -sent her the day before, and to hand it over seemed almost an act of -treason, though they were not yet actually engaged. Yet she was -conscious that she thought this new acquaintance charming. Silence gives -consent where lovely woman is concerned. At any rate, when she looked up -he was in the act of placing it in his buttonhole. But his fingers had -paused in their work as a consequence of his arrested glance. A feminine -figure outlined on the crest of adjacent rising ground had suddenly -caught his eye. She was addressing her ball for a brassie shot, and as -he gazed it was performed with a sweeping grace of which the lack of -effort was the salient charm. - -Peggy, whose eyes had promptly followed the direction of his, vouchsafed -the desired information. - -"Mrs. Herbert Maxwell." - -"Really!" There was a shade of interest in the monosyllable, as though -the identity of some one whom he had been rather curious to meet had -been revealed to him. - -"You haven't met her?" - -"Not yet." - -"Oh, you'd like her immensely." - -The words were uttered with such naive confidence that Harry Spencer -turned away his gaze from the new attraction to survey the old. - -"How do you know?" he inquired jauntily. - -Peggy spluttered a little at this flank attack. "Oh, well, you know, -she's so awfully clever. She's different. She'd pique your curiosity -anyway," she concluded, recovering her aplomb. - -"Am I so difficult to please?" he asked sententiously. He answered the -question himself. "Yes, I admit that I am." His look of admiration, -which Peggy divined was constitutional with him on such occasions, was -best to be met by diversion. - -"I shall never be able to play golf as Lydia Maxwell does, and I've been -at it twice as long. She has only played this spring, and Dobson says -that she has a better idea of the game than any other woman. It's just -knack with her, for her balls go farther than mine and yet she makes -scarcely an exertion. You couldn't help admire her in all sorts of ways. -It has been a dreadfully quiet season for her, though, for when her baby -was six weeks old and she had sent out cards for two musical parties in -their new town house, her husband's mother, old Mrs. Maxwell, died -suddenly, and she had to go into mourning. So they went to Southern -California for February and March, and moved down here as soon as they -returned. She took lessons in golf at Los Angeles, and she beat me four -up the first time we played, even though I supposed I could give her -half a stroke." - -While he listened to this monologue, Spencer followed the progress of -the subject of it. She was playing with pretty Mrs. Baxter, but, though -her opponent was an ordinarily graceful woman, there was a deft harmony -in her movements which made Mrs. Baxter appear an unfinished person by -comparison. - -"They say the real secret is that she has an artistic temperament." The -speech was Peggy's by way of reading his thoughts and providing a -condensed and comprehensive key. - -"And her husband--what is he like? You know he has come to the surface -during my absence." - -"He hasn't it at all--I mean an artistic temperament. But he's an -awfully good sort--awfully; a true sport, and kind as can be." Peggy's -vocabulary of enthusiasm, though fundamentally native, sometimes made -reprisals on the kindred jargon of Great Britain. - -"I see. And you infer that I have an artistic temperament?" A tendency -toward challenging unexpectedness was one of Spencer's prime -manifestations with women. - -Peggy looked embarrassed. She had not bargained for such an unequivocal -piece of teasing. She put up her hand to her head to secure her escaping -comb. "I don't know you very well, of course, but I had supposed so. Yet -I'm not clever, and I dote on Lydia," she added archly. - -Harry Spencer did not have to go out of his way for an opportunity to -satisfy his curiosity by personal acquaintance with Mrs. Herbert -Maxwell. When he and his fair partner had finished the last hole and -approached the piazza of the new club-house, they found her sitting -there--one of a group of both sexes waiting for luncheon. Peggy, -radiant and prodigal of superlatives, proclaimed to one after another -that her game had come back. Wasn't it perfectly glorious?--the -loveliest thing which had ever happened. And Mr. Spencer had detected at -once what was wrong. "Just think of it, I was pressing and took my eye -off the ball," she kept reiterating, "and I never knew it. Wasn't it -dear of him?" - -One of the most characteristic features of golf is that it is not an -altruistic pastime. Everyone is feverishly absorbed by the state of his -own game, and does not care at heart a picayune for his neighbor's. At -the moment of Peggy's vociferous advent the assembled company were -talking in pairs, and each member of each pair was endeavoring to excite -the interest of his or her partner in the dialogue by glowing or -dejected narration of why his or her score was lower or higher than the -speaker's average. In some cases both were talking at once and neither -listened. Oftener, perhaps, each had asserted an innings, and the -strongest or most persistent lungs held the mastery. Miss Marbury, who -under the tutelage of Dobson had done the longest hole in 12 and the -eighteen holes in 132--five better than ever before--was bubbling over -with ecstasy and soliciting congratulations. Douglas Hale, who had -failed by one stroke to surpass his previous record of 82, was telling -hoarsely and pathetically to everyone whom he could buttonhole how it -happened. - -"At the fourteenth hole I was on the green in two and took seven for the -hole. Seven! Just think of that, seven! Five strokes on the green." As -he uttered the words with excruciating precision, he would hold up the -five fingers of his hand and shake them at his auditor. It was an -experience which would last him all day and as far into the evening as -he could find new listeners, especially if he could endeavor to take the -edge off his disappointment by Scotch and soda. - -Consequently, though everybody heard that Miss Peggy Blake had recovered -her game, and her breezy invasion caused a stir, the fact that she had -done so was of interest only because of the means by which this had been -brought to pass. It was Harry Spencer, not she, who became the cynosure -of numerous feminine eyes. If he had put Peggy onto her game, why not -them onto theirs? Peggy, mistaking the reason for the pause in the -general chatter for interest in her improvement, proceeded to rehearse -gleefully the details of her triumph for the benefit of the company. -But Douglas Hale, in no mood to be side-tracked by any such -interruption, stepped forward, and hooking his arm in Harry Spencer's, -led him apart with a mysterious "A word with you, old man." - -Having thus enforced an audience, he held forth in the low tone -appropriate to an interesting confidence. "Just now I was 58 at the end -of the thirteenth hole, and was on the green of the fourteenth in two, -and I took seven for the hole. Five puts on the green! Think of that, -five!" he whispered hoarsely, and shook his five fingers in Harry's -face. "Seven for the hole. And I finished in 82. Tied my own record. -Wasn't that the meanest streak of luck a man ever had? Five puts, and -two of them rimmed the cup." - -His victim listened indulgently. The firm grip on his arm precluded -escape. - -"You must learn to put, my dear fellow." - -"That's the most sickening part of it. I made every other put. Let me -tell you--you remember the slope of the fourteenth green? Well, I----" - -Realizing what he was in for, Harry took advantage of a momentary pause -on the part of his torturer for the purpose of lighting a cigarette. His -observing eyes had noticed that Mrs. Maxwell was standing apart from the -other women who were within range of Miss Blake's jubilant reiteration. -He wrenched himself free from Douglas's clutch. - -"It was a case of downright hard luck, and now, in return for my -heart-felt sympathy and for listening to your tale of woe, introduce me -to Mrs. Herbert Maxwell." - -Puffing at his half-lighted cigarette, Douglas Hale reached out to -recover his lost grip. "Wait a minute. You haven't heard half. I will -show you just how it happened." - -Spencer intercepted the reaching fingers and grabbed the offender's -wrist, and said, with jocund firmness, "I don't care a tinker's dam how -it happened, Douglas, and I tell you you can't put. Introduce me to Mrs. -Maxwell." - -This quip caused the egotist to draw himself up stiffly. He was proof -against hints and ordinary recalcitration, but such an unmistakable -rebuff was not to be ignored; that is, he could not with proper -self-respect continue the harangue on which he was bent. - -"Of course if you don't care to hear how it happened, I won't tell -you." So saying, Douglas suffered himself to be conveyed the necessary -few steps, and performed the ceremony of introduction. - -Lydia let her eyes rest with keen but interested scrutiny on this -new-comer. He was a boon at the moment, for she had taken the gauge of -everybody at Westfield, and was conscious that neither her heart nor her -brain was satisfied. She craved novelty and true aesthetic appreciation. -Did anyone really understand her? Not even Fannie Cole, who came the -nearest to divining her hatred of the commonplace and her dread of being -bored. But Fannie, though discerning, chose to remain a slave to the -canons of conformity. That morning, in her looking-glass she had asked -herself the question, "Why did I ever marry Herbert Maxwell?" But she -had asked it with no malice aforethought, merely as one who, with -leisure to take account of stock, foots up his assets and puts the -question, "Am I solvent?" The interrogation was simply searching and -contemplative. The answer had been prompt, and in a measure assuring. -"Because it gave me everything I need." Yet, somehow, there remained a -cloud upon her spirit. Was this all? Did life offer nothing further? - -"We make a fuss and circumstance about our sports," she said. - -"They do creak." - -It was agreeable to be comprehended so promptly. "It isn't sport for -sport's sake, but for the sake of the cups and because it's the thing." - -"And above all to beat the other fellow. That's the national creed. It's -so in everything--competition. We are brought up from childhood to -consider that winning is the thing which counts. We must win at any cost -at foot-ball or trade, in affairs or in love." - -She made one of her little pauses. Decidedly he was a kindred spirit and -to be cultivated. "I am an exotic then." - -"How so?" - -"Competition--the national creed--does not interest me." - -"Because you win so easily. I watched you play this morning. You will -have no rival of your own sex here." - -She ignored the tribute; she knew that already; it was the thesis which -interested her. - -"It bores me--winning, I mean. Golf, for the time being, is a delight." - -He gave her a pirate glance, as though to search her soul, and uttered -one of his bold sallies: - -"That is, your doll is stuffed with----" - -She checked him, shaking her head. "Oh, no. That is, I think not. I have -never cut her open. I had in mind something quite different." Her dainty -face grew pensive as she sought the exact phrase to interpret her -psychology. "I have never had to struggle for anything. It has always -come to me." - -"Exactly." His note of emphasis reminded her that her words were, after -all, merely an indirect echo of his diagnosis. "But your time is sure to -come," he asserted confidently. - -The smile of incredulity which curved her lips betrayed entertainment -also. "In what field?" she inquired. - -Spencer shrugged his shoulders. "I am a student of character, not a -soothsayer." - -"And then?" she queried. - -"You will be like the rest of us--only more so. You could not bear to -lose at any cost." - -What might have seemed effrontery in some men was but a piquant -challenge in his mouth, so speciously was it uttered. Lydia was not -unaccustomed to men whose current coin was sardonic sallies, as witness -the veteran Gerald Marcy. But this was something different. Her soul had -been suddenly pitchforked by a professor of anatomy and held up under -her nose with the caveat that she was ignorant of the mainsprings of her -own behavior. It was impudence, but novel, and she forgave it with the -reflection that he would live to eat his gratuitous deductions, which -would be the neatest form of vengeance. - -[Illustration: The smile of incredulity which curved her lips betrayed -entertainment also.] - - - - -V - - -Before many weeks had elapsed it began to be whispered at Westfield that -Harry Spencer and Mrs. Herbert Maxwell were seeing more or less of each -other. They appeared together not infrequently on the golf links; it was -known that he was giving her lessons at her own house in bridge whist, -the new game of cards; they had been met walking in the lanes; and--most -significant item, which caused the colony to prick up its ears and ask, -"What does this mean?"--two youthful anglers had encountered them -strolling in the lonely woods skirting distant Duck Pond. This last -discovery, which was early in September, led to the conclusion that, -under cover of her mourning, Lydia must have been seeing more of him -than anyone had imagined. Yet, even then, though alert brains indulged -in knowing innuendoes, Mrs. Cole's epigrammatic estimate of the matter -was generally accepted as sound: - -"A woman in mourning for her mother-in-law requires diversion." - -It seemed probable that Lydia was amusing herself, and that Harry -Spencer was playing the tame cat for their mutual edification. The -possibility that he had been caught at last and that she was luring him -on that she might lead him like a bear with a ring through his nose, and -thus avenge her sex for his past indifference, was regarded as unlikely -but delightful. That Lydia was enamored of her admirer, and that they -both cared, was not seriously entertained until many circumstances -seemed to point to such a deduction. Westfield was not wholly without -experience in intimacies between husbands or wives and a third party. -But only rarely had there been fire as well as smoke in these cases. And -even then there had never been up to this time an open scandal. Matters -had been patched up or the veil of diplomatic convention had been drawn -so skilfully over them that most people were left in the dark as to the -real truth. Almost invariably the intimacies in question reminded one of -the antics of horses with too high action who had all the show but -little of the quality of runaways; and the preferences manifested were -not always inconsistent with conjugal devotion. Consequently, everyone -took for granted that this was only another "fake" instance of family -disarrangement, entered on to pass the time and to provide that -appearance of evil which the American woman seems to find a satisfying -substitute for the real article. As Mrs. Cole once remarked in defending -the propensity to Gerald Marcy, if one's vanity is flattered, why should -one go farther? - -The buzz of curiosity was stimulated during the ensuing autumn by a -variety of fresh and compromising rumors. Consequently, when at a -golfing luncheon party given at the club by Mrs. Gordon Wallace in -October, Mrs. Baxter, whose blue eyes always suggested innocence, asked -in her demure way what the latest news was from "The Knoll," every -tongue had something new to impart. The most sensational as well as the -latest piece of information was provided by Mrs. Cunningham, who -repeated it with the air of one whose faith had at last received a -serious shock. - -"She sat with him on the piazza at 'The Knoll' until three o'clock -night before last. Her husband came home at eleven and requested her to -go to bed, but there they stayed without him. I call that pretty bad, -even if she is Lydia. I wonder how long Herbert Maxwell will permit this -sort of thing to go on. Even the worm will turn." - -There was an eloquent silence, which was broken by a repetition of Mrs. -Cole's whitewashing epigram as to Lydia's need of diversion. Its -cleverness and value as a generalization caused a ripple of amusement, -but it fell flat as a specific. Old Mrs. Maxwell had been dead many -months, yet matters were more disconcerting than ever. Stout Miss -Marbury's question was regarded as much more to the point: - -"Who saw them, Mrs. Cunningham?" - -May Cunningham would have preferred to remain silent on this score, but -she perceived that the authenticity of her story was dependent on direct -testimony. It was a luncheon of eight. She glanced around the table in -an appealing manner as much as to say, "This really is not to be spoken -of," and said laconically, "There was another couple present." Then, as -though she feared on second thought that the wrong persons might be -fixed on, she continued: "Neither of them were married. They are -supposed to be engaged, and Lydia acted as their chaperone on the piazza -while they took a moonlight ride together." - -"Who can they have been?" murmured some one sweetly, and there was a -general giggle. - -"You wormed it out of me," said Mrs. Cunningham doggedly. "You demanded -my credentials. But it doesn't matter about those two, of course, for -they're in love." - -"How about the others?" ventured Mrs. Baxter. - -"Truly, Rachel, you shock me," answered Mrs. Cunningham sternly. "It's -no joking matter. It's a very serious situation for this colony, in my -opinion. People who don't know us do not think any too well of us -already because some of us smoke cigarettes and go in for hunting and an -open-air life instead of trying to reform somebody. But this will give -the gossips a real handle. Besides, it's disreputable." - -"But I really wished to know," murmured Mrs. Baxter. "Does either of -them care? And if so, which?" - -"My own belief," interjected Mrs. Cole, "as I said just now, is that -there's nothing in it--nothing serious. Lydia is simply catering to her -æsthetic side, and everyone knows Harry Spencer. It seems to me -personally that she has gone too far, but that is a question of taste, -and, provided her husband doesn't complain, why need we?" Thereupon she -popped into her mouth a luscious-looking coffee cream confection and -munched it ruminantly. - -"It has become a question of morals," asserted Mrs. Cunningham. "If -their relations are what we don't believe them to be, it's a disgrace to -Westfield. If they are simply amusing themselves, it's heartless, and I -know what I would do if I were Herbert Maxwell." - -"So do I," exclaimed Mrs. Reynolds, a spirited young matron with the -breath of life in her nostrils, yet, as someone once remarked of her, -notoriously devoted to her lord and master. - -"Just what my husband said," added Mrs. Miller, a bride of a year's -standing, which, considering nothing whatever had been said, provoked a -smile and brought a blush to the countenance of the speaker, which -deepened as Mrs. Baxter with her accustomed innocence asked: - -"What would you do?" - -"Pick out the most seductive-looking woman I could set my eyes on, -Rachel dear, and"--blurted out Mrs. Reynolds pungently. As she paused an -instant seeking her phrase, Mrs. Cunningham interjected: - -"Sh! We understand. That might bring her to her senses." - -"But Herbert Maxwell never would," said Mrs. Cole, reaching for another -sweetmeat. - -"I'm not so sure about that," retorted Mrs. Cunningham. "He's faithful -as a mastiff, but goad him too far and he may prove to be a slumbering -lion, in my opinion." - -"That wouldn't suit Lydia at all," responded Mrs. Cole. The thesis -interested her. "She takes for granted, I presume, his unswerving -fidelity. Besides, he would consider it morally wrong. I shall be very -much surprised, my dear, if you are not mistaken." - -"I'm not a married woman," suggested Miss Marbury, "but I think he ought -to put a stop in some way or other to the present condition of things, -and that it is his fault if he doesn't." - -A murmur of acquiescence showed that this was the general sentiment, at -which point the discussion of the topic was brought to a close by the -hostess's rising from the table--that is, discussion by the party as a -whole. After they had repaired to the general sitting-room--that neutral -apartment in the club which was appropriated to the use of both -sexes--the subject still claimed the attention of the groups into which -the company subdivided itself. Here Mrs. Baxter found an opportunity to -repeat her inquiry whether either, neither, or both cared, which really -was the most interesting uncertainty of the situation, and one which -elicited a variety of opinion. Some, like Mrs. Cole, were still -incredulous, or chose to be, that either of them was in earnest. But -several of the more knowing women wagged their heads in concert with -Mrs. Cunningham, who, seated where her vision could rest on the -full-length portrait of her husband swathed in pink as the first Master -of the Westfield Hounds--one of the new decorative features--repeated -data to the effect that Herbert Maxwell was looking glum and was -drinking a little--much more than ever before in his life. - -"Poor fellow!" sighed Miss Marbury, and she added, as though in -self-congratulatory monologue, that there were some compensations in -being single. - -"Nothing of the kind; you know nothing about it," said Mrs. Cunningham -tartly. She did not choose to hear the institution of holy matrimony -traduced by a mere spinster; moreover, her nerves were on edge because -of her solicitude lest the most appalling possibility of all were -true--that Lydia really cared. For, granting the hypothesis, what might -not Lydia do? What would Lydia do? And as yet, though conjecture ran -riot and all Westfield was holding its breath, no one could speak with -authority as to what the truth was. Nevertheless, Mrs. Cunningham, as an -observer, was disposed to take a pessimistic view as to what the future -had in store for the colony, the good repute of which was precious to -her. On the other hand, many of the younger spirits among the women were -inclined to regard the mother of the hunt as a croaker, and as they -chatted apart from her on this occasion they cited her late opposition -to the recent innovations at the club as typical of her mental attitude. - -"Yet to-day, if a vote were taken whether we should go back to the old -primitive order of things," added Mrs. Miller, "she would be one of the -most strenuous defenders of the extra space and improved service which -we now enjoy. She can't keep her eyes off that portrait of her husband. -Look at her now." - -The stricture, so far as it related to Mrs. Cunningham's change of front -regarding the alterations, was just. Yet her frank acceptance and -enjoyment of the more decorative rooms and ampler creature-comforts, -even though they wore a radiance reflected from her husband's -full-length figure, revealed a broad and accommodating mind. There are -some persons who will continue to glorify the superseded past even in -the face of a manifestly more charming present. These are the real old -fogies, and there is no help for us, or them, but to ignore them. But -Mrs. Cunningham was of the sort which, though conservative, is ready to -be convinced even against its will; and, having been convinced, she was -able to draw her husband after her. A week's occupation of the new -quarters having made clear to her that, though more luxurious, they were -vastly more convenient, she had sighed and given in. Now there were no -two more resolute defenders of the results of the radical policy than -she and Andrew. Nevertheless she drew the line there, and still, -suspicious of what others defined as the march of progress, she was -prepared like a faithful sentinel to challenge developments which -aroused her distrust. Because the new club-house was a success, and the -inroad of multi-millionnaires had not been so subversive of the best -interests of the colony as she had feared, there was no occasion to -relax her vigilance. Thus she argued, and hence her genuine and somewhat -foreboding solicitude as to Lydia's behavior. - -But though Harry Spencer continued to dog the footsteps of Mrs. -Maxwell, so that he appeared in her society on all occasions, and people -wondered more and more how the husband could permit this triangular -household to continue without open demur, there were no new developments -during the late autumn and winter. Rumors of every description were -rife, but no one of the three interested parties deigned to provide a -solution of the enigma. Maxwell's demeanor on the surface was so far -unruffled that certain observers continued to maintain that his wife's -state of mind was entirely platonic; in other words, that he trusted -Lydia, and, though he might have preferred more of her society, was -willing she should amuse herself in her own way--which was not apt to be -the conventional way. And if he did not object, why should anyone else, -especially as the Maxwells were now in their town house and local -censorship by Westfield was suspended? But the majority shook their -heads, and repeated that though Maxwell held his peace, he was out of -sorts and still drinking more than his wont. Then, just as the community -was getting a little weary of the whole subject because nothing did -happen, the breaking out of the war with Spain drove it out of -everyone's mind. - -For the Westfield Hunt Club was up in arms at the first suggestion of -powder. All the small talk that spring bore on the matter of enlisting, -or on the men who had enlisted. Everyone wished to be a rough rider, and -if a commission in that favorite corps had been the certain prerogative -of an offer of service, all the able-bodied bachelors in the colony -would have enrolled themselves. As it was, there were numerous -applicants for this particular aggregation of fighters, but only Kenneth -Post, the master of the hounds, succeeded in joining it. Half a dozen -obtained billets elsewhere: Guy Perry on one of the war vessels -despatched to Cuban waters, young Joe Marbury in another of the -volunteer regiments, and Dick Weston, pretty Mrs. Baxter's brother, on -one of the yachts converted into a coast guard for the protection of our -Atlantic cities against bombardment by the battle-ships of Spain. - -Harry Spencer was also one of the half dozen. When he promptly proffered -his services to the Government, it was somehow taken for granted that he -would get a good post; and presently he justified his reputation by -receiving an invitation to join the staff of a brigade on the eve of -embarking for Cuba. No one at Westfield impugned his courage or -questioned his patriotism, but some of the women in discussing the -matter later agreed that he had to go. Mrs. Cole put it in a nutshell -when she said: - -"If by any chance Lydia cares for him, she would never have spoken to -him again had he remained at home." - -But there were cases, too, of disappointment. Andrew Cunningham, who, in -spite of conjugal bonds, was eager to go to the front, was rejected on -account of his age and weight, much to his chagrin and to the secret -satisfaction of his better-half. Douglas Hale was discarded on the plea -of color-blindness, though, as he pathetically informed his -acquaintance, the doctor who examined him declared that he had never -seen a finer physical specimen in other respects. Hence it will be -perceived that there was a nucleus left for the maintenance of a steady -fire of conversation at the club-house for the benefit of the -stay-at-homes. - -At first, in keeping with the course of events, it centred on the -possibilities of the destruction of New York, Boston, or Portland by the -enemy's fleet; and after that bogy was laid, and the phantom fleet -located, it reverted to that ever-fresh topic for controversy, the cause -of the blowing up of the Maine. Then it turned to Manila, and when the -events of that splendid victory had been threshed threadbare, scented -trouble with Germany. The victory at Santiago set every tongue a-wagging -and raised enthusiasm to fever pitch; but presently the struggles of our -poorly rationed troops prompted an inquiry into the merits of General -Shafter as a commander, and one heard the hum of speculation as to what -would have happened if Cervera had not come out when he did. - -Some of the members showed themselves positive arsenals of statistics -and secret information from the scene of action. Instead of dwelling on -his misfortunes at golf, Douglas Hale's shibboleth all summer was the -letter which he carried in his pocket from Guy Perry, who had the good -fortune to be in the van of the battle of Santiago. This he read to -every man or woman of his acquaintance who would let him, and cherished -as an historical document which put him in close touch with the -authorities at Washington. Andrew Cunningham tried to make the best of -his disappointment by showing himself an audible authority on the size -and equipment, identity and immediate location of every battle-ship, -cruiser, and torpedo-boat in the navy, and as to our future needs to fit -us to cope with the naval armaments of the other great powers of the -world. As to the women, they were utterly absorbed in making bandages -and comfort bags. - -Such were the diversions of the spring and early summer. By August the -heroes returned from the front and began to reappear on their native -heath. Other sporting garb gave place to regimental attire, and, to be -in fashion, both men and women wore army slouch hats and suits akin to -khaki. One of the first of the Westfield colony to reach home was Guy -Perry, looking brown as an Indian from his long exposure to the sun -outside the harbor at Santiago. On the day after his return his -engagement to Miss Peggy Blake was formally announced, much to the -delight of everybody, but to no one's surprise--a fact which slightly -dismayed the radiant couple, who were apparently under the delusion that -their tryst had been kept a profound secret. They were certainly an -attractive-looking pair as they dashed about the country on Guy's -dog-cart, proclaiming their good fortune to the world. Peggy's rough -rider hat, perched on the back of her head, suited her style of beauty; -and as they bubbled over with health and happiness, more than one camera -fiend took a shot at them as a charming epitome of the strenuous life. - -On the other hand, Kenneth Post returned on a litter, almost a skeleton -from fever; and Gerald Marcy, who against his own doctor's advice had -finally succeeded in getting stalled in camp in Florida, was limping -with rheumatism. Nevertheless, he was able to be about, and, though on -ordinary occasions a socially tactful spirit, he did not attempt to -conceal his pride at being the only one of the middle-aged men who had -succeeded in dodging the authorities and serving his country. - -But the hero who brought back the stateliest palm of glory from Cuba was -Harry Spencer, for he had his arm in a sling from a flesh wound caused -by a Spanish bullet at San Juan Hill, and had been subsequently in the -hospital, threatened with blood poisoning. He was emaciated and -interesting-looking, so Mrs. Cole, who had a glimpse of him, declared, -and he went straight to the small cottage at Westfield where he had -spent the previous summer. - -Two days subsequent to his return the spirit moved Mrs. Cole to call on -Lydia, and on the afternoon of the day she paid this visit it was -noticed that she sat pensive and silent while the other women at the -club were drinking tea. It was Mrs. Barker who called attention to the -circumstance by asking: - -"What are you incubating on, Fannie?" - -Mrs. Cole hesitated for a moment, then she said tragically, "I am afraid -she cares for him." - -No one had to ask who was meant. - -"What did I tell you?" exclaimed Mrs. Cunningham. - -"What makes you think so?" asked the practical Miss Marbury. - -Fannie Cole shook her head. "Not from anything she said. She didn't -mention the subject. It was from what she didn't say. She made me think -of a pent-up volcano." - -Proceeding from the intimate source it did, this testimony, though -metaphorical, was felt to be most interesting. - -"And if the volcano bursts, what will become of poor Herbert?" murmured -Mrs. Baxter. - -"That's it, of course. Yet it isn't the only thing," responded Mrs. -Cole. "What will become of Lydia? What will become of all three of -them?" The sociological vista which opened before her was evidently so -appalling that she leaned back limply in the straw chair on which she -was sitting. But the attitude was productive of philosophy, for she -suddenly said with the air of one rhapsodizing, but who nevertheless -utters an indictment against Providence: - -"If the divinity which shapes our ends really intended Lydia to be -happy, why was Harry Spencer allowed to return when he did?" Warming to -the vividness of her imagination, she continued briskly, "The ideal -course of events would have been this: First, the baby should never have -been born; secondly, Herbert Maxwell should have felt an uncontrollable -patriotic call to go to the war; he should have fought with -distinguished valor and brilliancy--sufficient to inscribe his name on -the pages of history--and he should have been shot dead. That would have -satisfied him. Then would have been the time for Harry Spencer to come -home. With him and Herbert's fortune Lydia might have been radiantly -happy. As it is--" Mrs. Cole paused, palsied by the perplexities of -reality, and unwilling to venture on prophecy. - -But Mrs. Baxter saw fit to finish the sentence for her by a not -altogether logical utterance: "As it is, it was Mr. Spencer who went to -the war and has come back alive and a hero. If Lydia liked him before, -it is of course all the harder for her not to like him now." - -Mrs. Cunningham uttered a sort of groan. Then she said emphatically, -"There can be but one end to it, in my opinion. Sooner or later she will -leave her husband and run away with him." - -There was a general nodding of heads--all but Mrs. Cole's. - -"And what will they do with that poor baby?" interjected Miss Marbury. - -Fannie Cole sat up by way of protest. "My dears," she said with gasping -alertness, "that would be comparatively normal, and it cannot be the -correct solution. Don't you see it's impossible? Neither of them has -any money. If she would, he wouldn't, and neither of them would." She -looked around the circle with a smile of triumph, knowing that her -stricture was unanswerable. - -"I never thought of that," said Mrs. Baxter, voicing the general -perplexity. - - - - -VI - - -Late one afternoon, about a month after, Lydia Maxwell was sitting in -her drawing-room at Westfield. An exquisite tea service stood on a table -close at hand. But tea had been served. At least the visitor who had -been spending the afternoon with her had drunk his and had been gone -about ten minutes. Her baby, left by the nurse on the way to her own -evening meal, was cooing on the sofa at her side, fended by pillows from -toppling over on its head, and provided with the latest novelties in -costly toys. The child was now nearly two, and her wardrobe was a credit -to her mother's decorative instincts. Lydia enjoyed the combination of -the infant and herself and spared no pains to produce an effective -picture on all occasions, whether the setting were the drawing-room, a -victoria, or a village cart. She counted on mounting Guendolen at the -earliest possible day on the tiniest of ponies as a picturesque hunting -attendant. Nor had her husband failed to appreciate what an opportunity -was here afforded for the artist. Six months earlier he had -threatened--the phrase was Lydia's--to have her and baby done by Sargent -on his next visit; in fact, Herbert had written to him. The offer had -been tempting from the point of view of immortality, but left alone with -the child, she had shaken her head and said: - -"It would be lovely if it were just right, Guen, but he might take it -into his head to form a vicious conception of mamma. And as for you, he -couldn't help making you the speaking image of Grandma Maxwell. Living -pictures are safest for us, dear, for we can control the canvas." - -Now she sat pensive and tense, her hands clasped in her lap. "Why do I -love him so?" she murmured under her breath, rebelling against the -consciousness which gripped her. Yet in another moment she asserted with -the abandonment of one defending his faith against all comers, "But how -I do love him!" - -A jocund, inarticulate effort at conversation by the child reminded her -of its presence. Reaching out her hand, she felt the silky softness of -the delicate infantile locks, and then the dainty texture of the frilled -dress. Again she said, talking to herself: "The problem is, what will -become of you, cherub? You must go with me, of course--if I go." - -Her baby cooed by way of response. There was a noise in the hall as of -someone arriving. - -"A visitor for you, Guen," she said. Hurriedly leaning over, she raised -her finger as one would to hold the attention of a dancing dog, and gave -this cue for imitation. - -"Say pa-a-pa--pa-a-pa." - -The earlier lessons had been fairly learned, for after a brief struggle -the dawning intelligence freed itself in an unequivocal if throaty -reproduction of the pious salutation. - -"You little pet! Now again." - -"Pa-a-pa." - -"At last. A sop to Cerberus," Lydia murmured. - -The door opened and the master of the house entered. He had just come -back from an afternoon ride, and in the few minutes which had elapsed -since his return Lydia knew that he had been to the sideboard in the -dining-room--a man's way of alleviating despondency. His glance, -avoiding or ignoring his wife, sought eagerly the object which he -expected to find--his infant daughter. This was the bright spot in his -day. The baby acknowledged his advent by a crow and by shaking a solid -silver rattle. Maxwell, walking across to the other side of the room, -sat down and held out his arms invitingly. But Lydia intervened to defer -the customary toddling journey in order to exhibit her pupil's latest -accomplishment. - -"Listen to her now, Herbert," she said, and gave the necessary signal. - -"Pa-a-pa." The verisimilitude was undeniable. - -Something very like a groan escaped Maxwell, though his countenance -lighted up. Was he thinking how happy he might have been had fate so -willed? - -The performance was repeated successfully a second time; then the child -was despatched on her travels across the carpet. When she ran staggering -into her father's arms he folded her to his breast and pressed his lips -against the fair, silky tresses. She was accustomed to be thus cuddled -by him, though to-night there was an added fervor in his endearments, -owing to her efforts at speech. Meanwhile Lydia from her angle of the -sofa observed them in demure silence. She had given him an entrancing -quarter of an hour, for which she was thankful. Besides, it might put -off the evil day--the day of rupture, decision, breaking up of the -present anomalous domestic relations--which was impending. He had been -devoted, forbearing, unselfish, he had lavished on her every luxury, but -he was impassible. He did not divert or interest her; his serious side -lacked originality; his gayer moods were noisy and deficient in -subtlety; the reddish inelegance of his physique repelled her. But what -was to be the end? This was the riddle which for diverse reasons she had -yet failed to solve. Its solution must depend on the future words of -both of them, and she had had no final explanation with either. For the -present she would fain have things remain as they were, until she could -find the key. - -The return of the nurse interrupted Maxwell's happiness. Grudgingly he -gave up his treasure. As soon as the child had been carried off, he -rose, and standing with his back to the blaze of the wood-fire, which -the first sharpness of autumn made agreeable, he faced his wife. - -"I met Spencer coming from here." - -"He stayed to tea." - -"And was here all the afternoon?" - -"You know he comes every afternoon." - -"And nearly every morning?" - -"Yes." - -"What is to be the end of this, Lydia?" - -She was preparing his tea, which he was accustomed to take after the -departure of Guendolen. "How do you wish to have it end?" she asked -presently. - -"I would have you promise me never to see him again, and to go abroad -with me for two years. Let us change the scene entirely. You owe it to -me, Lydia, and to our child." This was no new discussion, but he was -making one last determined effort to counteract the influences working -against him. - -"But you know I love him." - -"So you have informed me. You have informed me also that it has stopped -there." - -"It is true. Why, I scarcely know. Perhaps it would have been juster to -you if I had left you and gone to him." - -"I do not understand." - -"No matter, then." - -"But you loved me once," he exclaimed resolutely. "That is, you told me -so." - -"Yes, I told you so. And I did love you as I understood loving then. I -liked you, that's what it really was, and I liked the things which a -marriage with you brought me." - -"You mean you married me for my money?" - -"I did not know it at the time." - -"What do you mean, then?" - -Lydia clasped her hands behind her head and leaned back in her seat. "I -am trying to be frank with you," she said. "I am trying to make you the -only reparation in my power--to let you see me just as I am, just as I -see myself. We are what we are. I discovered that long ago." - -He caught up this appeal to fatalism with a quicker appreciation of her -significance than he was wont to show. - -"You need never see this man again unless you choose. You are my wife; I -am your husband. Does that stand for nothing?" - -"I should choose to see him," she answered with low precision, ignoring -the rest. "There is the trouble." - -He winced as though from a buffet. "Good God, Lydia, what have I done? -Is there anything within my power which you desired which I haven't -given you?" - -"You have been very generous." - -"Generous!" The word evidently galled him. "Do you realize that to -regain your love I would gladly sacrifice every dollar of the five -million I own?" - -For a moment she made no response. The idea of living with a penniless -Maxwell was one which she had never entertained, and it made clearer to -her the hopelessness of her plight. - -"I am not worth it, Herbert," she said gently. - -He, too, paused, baffled and at a loss how to proceed. "You are so -cold," he asserted with an access of indignation. - -"Cold?" The quality of the interrogation expressed the incredulity of -newly discovered self-knowledge. - -"To me." - -"Yes, to you, Herbert." - -He bent his brow upon her. "I suppose if I had devoted myself to some -other woman I might not have lost you. I had hints enough from our kind -friends, which I ignored because I did not choose to soil our wedlock by -such a foul pretense." His conclusion betrayed the loyalty of his -emotions, but there was the sneer of gathering temper in his tone. - -Lydia shook her head with a fastidious smile. "With some women that -might have been the remedy. It could have made no difference with me." - -"It is not too late yet," he cried with loud-mouthed menace. "You forget -that I am human--that I am a man." - -She raised the pages of a book beside her and let them fall gradually. -"You must do as you choose about that." - -"Then what is the remedy?" he shouted. - -"I used an inappropriate word. There is no remedy in our case." - -"Lydia, you are goading me to ruin." - -Striding up and down the room, he struck his leather breeches smartly -with his riding-crop--which he had brought from the hall because the -baby liked to play with it--so that they resounded. He halted before his -wife and exclaimed hoarsely: - -"What are we to do, then?" - -She had been warned by feminine innuendoes before marriage of the -Maxwell vehemence below the surface, and she perceived that their -affairs had reached a crisis. - -"Sit down, Herbert, please. I cannot bear noise. If we are to arrange -matters, we must talk quietly in order to decide what is really best -under all the circumstances." - -He gave an impatient twist to his head. "I wish you to know that I am -master here after this," he announced. Nevertheless, he walked to the -chair near the fireplace, which he had first occupied, and sitting down, -folded his arms. - -"Well, what have you to say?" - -"To begin with, Herbert, there is no escape for either of us from this -calamity. And you must not suppose that I do not realize how dreadful it -is for us both. So far as there is fault, it is mine. I ought never to -have married you. But the past is the past; I do not love you now; I can -never love you again." - -"One way out of it," he said between his teeth, "would be to kill the -man you do love." - -"How would that avail?" - -"I have thought more than once of shooting him down like a dog," he -blurted. - -Lydia shook her head. "You never could do that when it came to the -point. And in case of a duel, he is more handy than you. Besides, who -fights duels nowadays? And think of the newspapers! You know as well as -I that such a thing is out of the question--on Guen's account if for no -other reason. It would be blazoned all over the country." - -"On Guen's account! Why did you not think of her before you sacrificed -us both?" - -She looked back at him unruffled. "I am thinking of her now," she -replied with her finished modulation. "I have told you I am what I am." - -"Do not repeat that shallow sophistry," he exclaimed fiercely. "You are -what you choose to be." But in the same breath he fell back in his seat -with the air of one confounded. Then, resting his elbow on the arm of -the chair and his cheek on his hand, he gazed at her from under his -reddish, beetling brows as one might gaze at the sphinx. "What, then, do -you suggest?" he asked wearily. - -Lydia had shrugged her shoulders at his last stricture. Now raising -again the cover of the book beside her and letting the leaves slip -through her fingers, she replied slowly, "I suppose if you were a -foreign husband you would accept the inevitable and console yourself as -best you could. We should go our respective ways and ask no questions. I -should be discreet and--and things would remain as they are so far as -Guen is concerned." - -"I see. But I am an American husband, and, though they have the -reputation of being the most accommodating in the world, they draw the -line at such an arrangement as you suggest." - -"I thought very likely that you would. Then we must separate. Sooner or -later, I suppose, you will be entitled to a divorce, if you wish it." - -There was a pause. "Where will you go?" he asked in a hollow tone. - -"I have not thought," she answered. - -It was the truth. Clever and discerning as she was, she had put off the -inevitable from day to day, basking in the glamour of the present. What -would her lover say? Would he be ready to venture all for her sake? to -throw convention to the winds and glory in their passion? She did not -know; she had never asked him. They had never discussed the future. She -needed time--time to think and time to ascertain. Then a sudden thought -seized her, and she spoke: - -"I shall take Guen." - -"Guen?" There were agony and revolting consternation in his exclamation. - -"I am her mother. She is a mere baby. Am I not her natural guardian?" - -He sprang to his feet. "I should not permit it!" he thundered. "I should -go to law; I should appeal to the courts." - -[Illustration: "I should not permit it!" he thundered. "I should go to -law; I should appeal to the courts."] - -Her wits showed themselves her allies. "But if you drive me from this -house, the courts will give her to me," she said triumphantly. "What, -after all, have I done? You are jealous, and you dismiss me. They will -let me have my baby." - -The horror inspired by her cool, confident declaration choked his -utterance. He raised his riding crop in his clenched fist as though he -were impelled to strike her. "You--you--" he articulated, but no -suitable stigma was evolved by his seething brain. His arm fell, but he -stood with set teeth and bristling mien, like a wild boar at bay. - -His fury had the effect of enhancing Lydia's appearance of calm. "There -is no use in getting excited. I'm only telling you what is likely to -happen if we have recourse to desperate measures. She's a girl, and I -brought her into the world--had all the stress of doing so. Why -shouldn't I have her? I've heard lawyers say that when parents separate -the courts consider what is for the best good of the children. Surely it -is for the best good of a baby girl of two that she should go with her -mother. That's the modern social view, Herbert, and a man has to make -the best of it." - -As she proceeded Lydia had warmed to the plausible justice of her -argument. Recognizing that she had put herself in the best possible -position for the time being, she rose to go. Maxwell, gnawing at his -lips, stood pondering her dire words. The appalling intimation that he -might lose his precious child had numbed his senses with dread. He knew -his wife's cleverness, and that there must be some truth in her -statement. Might she not even at the moment be premeditating an attempt -to carry her away? Every other thought became at once subordinate to his -resolve to safeguard his treasure. As though he suspected that his wife -had risen under a crafty impulse to get the start of him, he blocked -her pathway by stepping between her and the door. - -"I forbid you to touch her," he said frowningly. "She shall never leave -this house. I am going to give my orders now and they will be obeyed." - -Maxwell stood for a moment as though waiting to see what response this -challenge would elicit, then, with a forbidding nod, he strode from the -room and shut the door after him. - -His departure was a relief to Lydia. All she had desired was to be -alone. She dropped again upon the sofa and sat looking into space. There -was only one course: she must have an understanding with Harry Spencer. -What would he say? What was he prepared to do for her sake? She thought -to herself, "He said once that my time would come. It has come, and, as -he prophesied, I am just like the others--only more so. More so because -they might be ready to give him up; they might not have the courage to -persevere and sacrifice everything else for the one thing which is worth -while--love. And I thought it would never come--that I was cold, as -Herbert says, and likely to be bored all my life. Now, against my creed, -against my will it has come, and I cannot do without him." For a moment -she sat in reverie, then murmuring, "I must know--and the sooner the -better," she stepped to the desk with an impulsive movement and wrote. - - - - -VII - - -Lydia's note was a summons to Spencer to go to drive with her on the -following morning. When he arrived she was ready with her village cart -and a fast cob. Regardless of appearances, her project was to seek some -distant spot where they would not be interrupted. The woods near Duck -Pond--in which they had passed pleasant hours together twice -already--commended themselves to her, and thither she directed their -course under the mellow October sunshine. She spoke of their jaunt as a -picnic, the edible manifestations of which she disclosed to him stowed -in neat packages behind. But she vouchsafed no immediate explanation of -the true purpose of this impromptu expedition. She was biding her time -until they should walk together in the sylvan paths, free from all -danger of interference. Since matters were approaching a climax, she was -glad also to give herself up for the moment to the glamour of sitting at -his side and realizing their affinity. Of all the men of her -acquaintance he was the only one who had never bored her; who seemed to -divine and cater to her moods; who amused her when she craved -entertainment, and was alive to the precious value of opportune silence. -He seemed to her possessed of infinite tact--and Lydia experienced an -increasing repugnance when her social sensibilities were jarred. That -had been one great trouble with Maxwell; he was forever doing the right -thing in the wrong way. His very endearments were awkward, whereas her -present companion's slightest gallantry gave a pleasant fillip to her -blood. - -Spencer, on his part, was quite content to ask no questions. He was with -the woman who exercised a subtler and more permanent fascination over -him than anyone he had hitherto met, not excepting Miss Wilford, and -this drive was only cumulative proof of favor on her part, one more sign -that their relations were approaching a crisis. What the precise and -ultimate result of their growing intimacy was to be he had not felt the -need to consider. For the moment it sufficed to know that, though both -her partiality for him and his influence over her were unmistakable, she -had up to this point kept him at bay--eluded him when she seemed on the -point of throwing herself into his arms. This skilful restraint on her -part had served to heighten the interest of his pursuit, and also to -deepen the ardor of his attachment. - -Before they had gone beyond the limits of Westfield several of their -mutual acquaintance were encountered, all of whom were too well-bred to -betray the vivid interest which the meeting aroused. Mrs. Cole, on her -way to play golf at the club, nodded to them blithely from her phaeton, -as though it were the most natural thing in the world they should be -together, and so concealed from them her dire suspicions which were thus -afforded fresh material to batten on. Gerald Marcy, sportsman-like and -dignified on his grizzled hunter, saluted them with the off-hand decorum -of a man of the world. - -"Glorious weather for man and beast," he asserted, as much as to say -that he knew how to mind his own business. When they had passed him, -however, he tugged nervously at his mustache and wagged his head like a -soothsayer. - -The newly engaged couple, sitting side by side in a village cart of -similar pattern to theirs, managed to conceal that they did not know -which way to look, and sustained the ordeal creditably, though the girl -was conscious that her cheeks were flushing. As they left the culprits -behind, Peggy clutched her lover's arm and whispered hoarsely, "Did you -see that?" - -"It's too bad," said Guy, who, being neither blind nor imbecile, had not -failed to take in the full import of the situation. "I for one am all in -the dark as to how this thing is going to end." - -"I knew they would be great friends, but I never supposed for a minute -that it would come to anything like this," mused the maiden sadly. "Even -when she chaperoned us that night I took for granted it was nothing -really serious." - -Mrs. Gordon Wallace, who, being a new-comer from the West, was less of -an adept, perhaps, in disguising her real feelings, put up her eye-glass -a little feverishly as she bowed. Whereupon it pleased Lydia to whisk -her head round a moment later. - -"She was staring after us with all her eyes!" she exclaimed. "I knew she -would; she couldn't resist the temptation. She will report that I have a -guilty conscience, whereas I was merely studying human nature in -violation of my own social instincts." - -"What did she see, after all?" queried Spencer, supposing that his -companion stood in need of a little soothing. - -"Everyone is talking about us, as you know," Lydia answered, ignoring -the query. "We have been for months the burning topic at Westfield, and -the fame of our misdeeds has spread abroad. Everything considered, -people have been wonderfully forbearing to our faces--perfect moles, in -fact--but behind our backs they are chattering like magpies. Fannie Cole -intimated as much, though I had guessed it." - -"Why need we care what they say?" he asked sedulously. What better -opportunity would he have than this for feeling his way? "We know that -there have been no misdeeds." - -She touched the horse with the tip of her whip, and he bounded forward. -"Is it not the prince of misdeeds that we love one another?" she said -after a moment. - -"We cannot help that." - -"But since it is true, what are we going to do about it, my friend?" - -"Do? Lydia," he whispered eagerly and bent his cheek toward hers, "it is -for you to say." - -She recoiled chastely from his endearment, though she thrilled at the -proximity. "Is it? I am not sure. I asked you to come with me this -morning in order to find out. It appears that we have reached the -parting of the ways." - -"The parting?" he queried apprehensively. - -"Not for us, unless we choose." - -"Ah." It was the sigh of an ardent lover. - -"Wait. I will tell you by and by when we can talk it out freely." She -turned and smiled on him with an effulgent grace such as she had never -in her life lavished on Maxwell. Therein she threw wide open for a -moment the casement of her soul and let him perceive the completeness of -the havoc he had wrought. - -"You angel!" he answered, breathing softly, and he pressed her hand. He -divined that her dainty spirit was in the mood when all it asked of him -was his presence, and that speech would be a discord. - -They were passing now beyond the confines of Westfield and the influence -of its colony into a more distinctly rural country--stretches of wilder -uplands, now pastures, now woods, alternating with small farm buildings -around which the fields lay stubbly with the party-colored remains of -the harvest, and redolent of autumn odors. Presently they reached a -village with a shady main street and old-fashioned white-faced houses, -most of the treasures of which, quaint andirons and other picturesque -relics of a simpler past, had been sent to market owing to the lure of -fancy prices. Then more fields, and at length they branched off from the -main road along a winding lane, on either side of which the view was -partially shut off by clusters of bushes gay with the colors of the -changing season. The perfume of the wild flowers was in the air, and -everywhere the blazon of the golden-rod was visible. - -They had exchanged an occasional word of comment on the sights and -sounds of the varying landscape, yet wholly impersonal. Now once more -she turned toward him with the same lustrous smile, and said, like one -exalted: - -"Love and the world are mine to-day." - -Thrilled by this confession of faith, he looked into her eyes ardently, -and encircling her waist sought to draw her toward him. - -"And they will be mine when you are mine. You must be mine; you shall be -mine." - -She freed herself from his grasp. "Patience, my friend." Her voice had -the tantalizing exultation of an elusive fay. "What should I gain by -that? Would you love me any more than you do now?" - -"Yes, yes indeed," he answered, disregarding logic. - -"I doubt it much," she asserted archly. "But wait." - -On they went, and finally the bushes along the winding lane became trees -and the sky above their heads was obscured by patches of foliage. They -were in an expanse of woods which, in spite of the proximity of -civilization, still smacked of luxuriant and elfish nature. The road, -though yet wide enough for a vehicle, wound gracefully between oaks and -pines stately with age. Some reverent hand had protected them. Their -trunks were scarred with weird growths, and on the carpet of the soil -big fungi flourished unmolested. It was a wild region to the imaginative -and uninitiated, yet there were evidences now and again of the nearness -of man and his devices, such as an occasional sign-post or rustic seat. -After half a mile of travel over a soft brown carpet sprinkled with -fragrant pine needles they brought up at their destination, a sort of -sylvan camp--a picnic-ground in reality, a favorite resort of the -masses in midsummer. Now it was deserted for the season. - - - Bare ruined choirs where late the sweet birds sang, - - -though the simile was applicable to the dismantled wooden buildings -rather than to the face of nature. The band-stand and eating pavilion -stood like starving ghosts amid the forest mysteries. But there was a -hitching-post at hand. Lydia knew her locality, and after the willing -cob had been secured and blanketed, she led the way down a short vista -to an arbor or summer house, to which clustering vines still imparted -some semblance of vernal cosiness. The view from it commanded through a -narrow clearing a picturesque outlook on the glistening waters of Duck -Pond, while the crackling underbrush furnished a cordon of alert -sentinels. On the rustic bench, where many inelegant predecessors had -carved their initials, there was ample room for two. Nor was it the -first time this pair had made use of it. Settling herself in her corner -with folded arms so as to face her companion, Lydia broke the silence. - -"Herbert says we cannot go on as we are." - -"He has intimated as much several times before." - -"But this time he is in earnest. He has put down his foot. He introduced -the subject yesterday after you had gone. I told him again the -truth--the truth he already knew--that I love you, and not him, and that -I can never love him." She paused. Was it to pique his curiosity, or was -she feeling her way while she revelled for the moment in her -declaration? - -He accepted her avowal complacently as a twice-told tale, but he was -interested obviously in what was to follow. - -"Well?" - -"He declines absolutely to be accommodating and resign himself to the -situation. The customary foreign point of view in such a case does not -appeal to him. When it came to the point I never supposed it would." - -"We were getting along so nicely, too. What brought this on?" Spencer -remarked parenthetically. The triangular footing had been submitted to -by Maxwell for so many months without an outbreak that the logic of -events seemed to him to demand some special incident as a justification -for this sudden revolt. - -"One can never tell when a volcano will assert itself. He simply -exploded, that's all," she answered. "The wonder is that he has put up -with it so long." - -"And what is it that he requires?" - -"He implored me never to see you again and to go abroad with him for two -years. When I declined, he said that he and I must separate." - -"A divorce?" - -"We did not discuss precise terms. The idea uppermost in his mind was -much less complex than that. He invited me to leave the house." - -Spencer made an ejaculation of astonishment. "At once?" - -"That was his meaning." - -"And what did you reply?" Under the spur of her disclosure he had risen. -Resting his arm on one of the spiky knobs of the rustic pillar in front -of him, he looked down at her inquiringly. Yet his long, athletic, -indolent figure still shrank from the conclusion that the status of -their affairs had been permanently disturbed. - -"I managed not to commit myself at the moment." She paused briefly. "I -desired to talk with you first, Harry. I felt that I must know what you -would like me to do." - -He straightened himself as from surprise. "I could not like you to do -that--leave the house." - -"It would only be possible provided I went to you." - -For a moment he seemed dumfounded. "From his house to me? But, -Lydia"--the boldness of the proposition was so staggering to Spencer, he -felt that he must have misunderstood her, and was groping for her -meaning. His consternation was evidently not unexpected, nor did it -elicit reproach. "No one would call on me, of course," she said dryly. -Then she added with cumulating tenseness, as one pleading a cause which -she suspects to be hopeless, "It would mean the end of everything else -in the world which I care for except one--my love for you. We could -leave this place forever, Harry, go to Australia, the world's end, -wherever you will, and be happy." - -A scampering squirrel with a nut in its mouth hopped into view on the -path, scanned them for an instant, then bounded into the underbrush. But -only just in time. It seemed to Spencer that the little animal was -grinning at him, and he had reached for a missile as an outlet for his -doubly harassed feelings. - -"My dear girl, you are crazy." - -"Very likely, Harry." - -"I love you to distraction, God knows, but that sort of thing is out of -date. Why, Lydia, you would be the first to tire of it. Happy? We should -neither of us be happy, for what would we have to live on?" The final -inflection of his voice was veritable triumph, so irrefutable appeared -his logic. - -Lydia gave a profound sigh. "I knew you would say that," she answered -quickly. "But it was our only chance. Suppose I get my divorce and we -marry here, what have we to live on? I have three thousand a year of my -own. And you?" - -"Not quite so much--assured." - -"Exactly. And there you are!--as Henry James's characters are so fond of -saying." - -They gazed at each other mutely. - -"We should be beggars with our tastes," she resumed. "It would never -do, would it, dear? You see, I have considered the subject." - -"I perceive that you have." The pensiveness of his tone was a virtual -admission that he had failed to recognize how subtle she had been. - -"The other was our only chance," she repeated. "I would have gone with -you, probably, if you had consented." - -"But I do consent, if you wish it," he asserted eagerly; and falling on -his knee he reached for her hand and pressed it to his lips. For the -first time in his life he had yielded to the intoxication of love -against his reason. The charm of this elusive, chameleon-like being had -got the better for the moment both of his discretion and his inherent -selfishness. - -Though the capitulation entranced Lydia, it had come too slowly and too -late. She shook her head. "It is you who have convinced _me_. You are -perfectly right. I should tire without things--of living on next to -nothing. It would be impossible. You knew me better than I did myself." -She freed her hand gently from his blandishments and smiled in his face. - -He rose and looked down at her again from the rustic pillar. "We might -manage somehow. I should be ready to try." He was nerved for the -sacrifice. - -"On six thousand? Oh, no, you wouldn't. At any rate, I should not." - -It was futile to pretend that it would be adequate. "We might live -abroad. Things are cheaper there," he suggested. - -"But I don't wish to live abroad. I wish to remain here, and I could not -hold up my head on much less than I have now, for, under the -circumstances, no one would call on us if we were poor." - -He showed that he saw the point, but it suited her to enlarge upon it. -"If one has millions and good manners one can do anything in America; -everything else is forgiven. But I would never put myself in the -position where I might be snubbed or pitied. That's why I must be rich. -And as for you, Harry," she continued, "unless you had a stable, steam -yacht, and at least two establishments, you would feel, after you had -cooled off, that you had thrown yourself away, and, consequently, we -should both be miserable." - -He laughed a little sceptically, but he did not deny the impeachment. -"What a clever woman you are, Lydia! That's one reason I love you so. -The thing to do," he said in his caressing voice, "is to prevent -matters from reaching the desperate stage. You must patch it up somehow -with Maxwell, and--and we shall find ways to see each other," he added -meaningly. - -She appeared not to hear his suggestion. "One million is the very least -that you and I could marry on--and be perfectly happy. And, if we had -it, we might be very happy." - -Her sigh of regret encouraged his alert warmth. He leaned toward her and -whispered, "Let us, then, be happy in the only way which is possible." - -She raised a warning hand. It was clear that she had understood his -previous innuendo. "To be happy under the rose is respectable abroad, -but here it may mean social ostracism," she replied demurely. "I tell -you that Herbert is dreadfully in earnest. Besides," she added after one -of her deliberate pauses, "Do you not love me? That is what I crave. -That is the essential thing for me." - -"You are mocking me," he said with choler. - -"No; only showing myself conservative and sensible like yourself. -Neither of us can afford to sacrifice everything, yet it would be -infinitely preferable to live together. You must find our million." - -Spencer shrugged his shoulders. "Where? In the stock-market? One plunge, -and drink wormwood if I lost? I will make you listen to me yet," he said -with the rising energy of one who feels himself at bay. His eyes gleamed -ardently, and the lines of his dark countenance, little accustomed to -brook opposition, grew rigid as they did in the moments when he -concentrated all his nerves on accomplishment. - -The charm of his mastering mood was not lost on Lydia, but its effect -was to fix her wits still more closely on the problem of their future. -Where was the necessary escape or remedy to be found? She lifted her -eyes to meet her lover's gaze, but they stared beyond him into the realm -of speculation. Suddenly she started as one who sees a -spectre--something weird and forbidden. Yet her stricken vision seemed -to gather fascination from a longer look, and she moved her lips as -though she were bandying words with doubts which fell like nine-pins -before her intelligence. Then, with a transport which revealed that she -had taken the intruder, however terrible, to her breast as the bringer -of a dispensation, she exclaimed: - -"Harry, I have found a way." - -"A way?" he ejaculated, for to him there now seemed only one course open -consistent with their necessities, and he feared some radical proposal -as the outcome of her trance. - -"For us to marry. We shall have enough." - -"Where is the gold mine?" he asked indulgently. - -She looked at him musingly with bright, searching eyes. In that moment -she concluded not to reveal her secret. "Yes, a gold mine," she -answered. "We shall have our million--perhaps two. Why not two?" She -asked the question of herself, and it was plain that she saw no stable -obstacle to her now widening ambition. - -Meanwhile Spencer surveyed her with scrutinizing wonder. Evidently her -transport was genuine. He knew her too well to doubt that there was -some basis for her specific statement as to the money. - -"Two would be better than one, Lydia. Let it be two, by all means," he -said jauntily. - -"It shall be two," she replied with the assurance of a necromancer -confident of compelling respect for his magic wand by the performance of -the marvels he has foretold. "You may kiss me, Harry--once." - - - - -VIII - - -The nuptials between Guy Perry and Miss Peggy Blake took place the -following summer--midway in June, the month of brides. They were married -in the little Episcopal church at Westfield, which since the advent of -the colony and of millionnaires had thriven like the traditional bay -tree, for most of the sporting element belonged, nominally at least, to -that fashionable persuasion. Hence the rector, the Rev. Percy Ward, who -had assumed this cure of souls with modest expectations regarding -numbers and revenues, had been pleasantly astonished by the rapid -increase in both. This had not made him proud, but appropriately -ambitious. It had allowed him to keep the appearance and properties of -the church up to the mark, æsthetically speaking, by vines, flowers and -fresh paint, and at the proper moment it had encouraged him to ask for a -new house of worship adapted to the needs of his growing congregation. -Success had crowned his efforts. Plans were being drawn for an artistic -and sufficiently spacious building to take the place of the rustic -quarters in use. But the bride had expressed herself as devoutly -thankful that she could be married in the original building, for she had -pious associations with it, and its smaller proportions seemed to her -more in keeping with a country wedding. For Peggy desired that the -ceremony should be an out-of-door affair. She had even thought at first -of being married under a bell of roses on her father's lawn. Yet, when -it came to the point she adhered to a ceremony in church. She wished to -be wedded to her true love as securely as possible, consequently she -invoked for the purpose full religious rites at the altar, but her -energies respecting the other features of the occasion were bent on the -production of open-air effects. They were to be simple and rurally -picturesque. - -The guests of the happy pair endeavored to comply with the wishes of the -bride consistently with regard for their own personal appearance. That -is, the women came in light summer attire, but with frocks of -fascinating shades, and straw hats of the latest dainty design with gay -feathers. The little church was packed to the doors, and on the green -fronting the vestibule stood those of the men for whom there was no room -inside. The leading members of the hunt were in pink, at Peggy's -suggestion; among them Andrew Cunningham with an immaculate stock and a -new waistcoat of festal pattern. It was a radiant, rare June day; not a -cloud was in the sky. The ceremony went off without a hitch save the -momentary hesitation occasioned by the bridegroom's diving into the -wrong pocket for the ring. All Peggy's family had expressed fears lest -her veil should fall off in keeping with her tendencies, so it had been -more than securely pinned to forestall such a calamity. She walked, on -her father's arm, modestly yet firmly up the aisle as became a strenuous -spirit; her responses were agreeably audible; and on her way down, -though she obeyed the instructions given her to keep her eyes straight -ahead--on the ball, as one of her friends had cautioned her--it was -clear from her blissful, confident expression that she found difficulty -in not nodding to her friends right and left by way of letting them know -how happy she was. She was dressed as nearly like a village maiden as -prevailing fashions in wedding garments would allow, and the simplicity -of her garb set off her fine physique and hue of health, which not even -the conventional pallor of brides was able wholly to dispel. Four -bridesmaids tripped behind her, the picture of dainty shepherdesses. - -On reaching the portal, however, Mrs. Peggy was unable to repress her -exuberance; and, before jumping into the carriage which was to carry -them to the breakfast at "Valley Farm," her father's residence, she -grasped and shook ecstatically a half dozen of the nearest hands. Then -as the vehicle containing the happy pair rolled away, while the bride -threw a kiss to the group of friends at the door, the swell of a horn -rose melodiously above other sounds, and along the meadow flanking one -side of the foreground the pack of hounds belonging to the Westfield -Hunt came into view headed by the Master, and every hound wore a wedding -favor. This feature had been devised as a surprise to the couple and a -tribute to their devotion to equestrian sport. Besides, it had a special -touch of interest for the women in that everyone knew that Kenneth Post, -the Master, would fain have been in the shoes of the fortunate -bridegroom. Yet he played his part with so much dignity and spirit, as -he led the way toward their destination, that the contagion of his -demeanor spread to the entire retinue of guests which followed in their -various equipages and the omnibuses or so-called "barges" provided, and -the procession swept along on the wings of gayety. - -In the midst of the confusion of getting away, the pole of pretty Mrs. -Baxter's village cart was broken through collision with the champing -steeds bearing the phaeton containing Mr. and Mrs. Gordon Wallace. Among -the many proffers of succor the first and most acceptable emanated from -Mrs. Walter Cole, who had obviously a spare seat in her neat oak station -wagon. The fact was that Mrs. Cole's husband, having been detained in -town by pressing business, had telephoned his wife at the last moment to -go without him to the ceremony, and that he would follow by the next -train. Consequently she had arrived only barely in time to get a seat, -and that by dint of crowding the pew a little. - -She had sat there as in a trance, unable to fasten her attention on the -charming spectacle as fixedly as it deserved. Her mind kept wandering -elsewhere; reverting to certain amazing news of which she had become -possessed only the afternoon before, and which she had had no -opportunity to impart to the many who would be thrilled by it. She was -revelling in the thought of the sensation it would produce, and her own -intelligence was agreeably busy with the clever novelty of the procedure -and with trying to decide whether, in spite of the heartlessness -displayed, the solution devised was not perhaps the best under the -peculiar circumstances. She had felt that she should burst if she could -not tell some kindred soul soon; but such an astounding piece of -information was not to be wasted on people whose faculties were already -fully occupied; it merited a single mind. Therefore the moment she -became aware of Mrs. Baxter's mishap, she exclaimed with almost -hysterical eagerness: - -"Rachel, there's a seat for you here. Do come with me; I'm all alone." - -When the invitation was accepted, Mrs. Cole pressed her hand and leaned -back with a happy mien. There was no use in speaking until they were -free from the concourse and were sweeping along the road toward "Valley -Farm." That auspicious moment having arrived, she turned to her friend -and said: - -"Well, dear, the mystery is solved." - -"About Lydia?" asked Mrs. Baxter with breathless animation. - -"Yes. She sent for me as soon as she returned. I went to town to see her -yesterday." - -"Where has she been all this time?" - -"Nominally, as we were told, travelling in Mexico for two months with -her cousins; in reality coming to terms with Maxwell in regard to a -divorce." - -"Then they are really to be divorced? How pitiful! But I suppose it was -the only solution. Do go on, dear," she added, fearing lest this crude -philosophic digression might be the reason for the pause on Mrs. Cole's -part. - -But the narrator, though she regarded the comment as superficial, was -merely arranging her material with a view to dramatic effect. - -"We had a heart-to-heart talk. She told me everything. She wishes people -to know--and to try to understand her point of view. Yes, Rachel, they -are to be divorced. The papers are already filed. The lawyers say that -it is simple enough, if both the parties are agreed, and it seems they -are--all three of the parties rather. The court proceedings will be as -secret as possible. Herbert is to let her obtain it from him--for cruel -and abusive treatment or gross and confirmed habits of intoxication--to -save Lydia's reputation on the child's account. Then Lydia is to marry -Harry Spencer and live happily ever after--if she can." - -"She never would have been happy with Maxwell," remarked Mrs. Baxter -pensively. "Poor fellow! When one reflects that he probably was never -cruel or abused her in his life, and that his confirmed habits, if he -has them, are due to her neglect! What is to become of him?" - -Mrs. Cole had been waiting for some such question. "The law is queer, -you know," she said, by way of disposing of the rest of the plaint. Then -she added, with significant emphasis, "He is to have Guen." - -"Altogether?" - -"Altogether. That is the way Lydia got him to consent to a divorce." - -Not being so clever as some women, Mrs. Baxter looked puzzled. "I don't -think I quite understand." - -Mrs. Cole, who was enjoying thoroughly the gradual climax, sat upright, -and facing her companion laid her hand on Mrs. Baxter's arm. - -"Rachel," she said, "Lydia has sold Guendolen to her husband for two -million dollars!" - -Mrs. Baxter gave a gasp and a smothered shriek. "Two million dollars! -The poor, dear child!" - -The two ejaculations were not entirely consistent, for they revealed a -divided interest. Mrs. Cole proceeded to face the second first. - -"I've thought it all over and over,--I did not sleep until four, I was -so excited--and there can't be any doubt that, under the circumstances, -it's the best thing for the child. Her father dotes on her, and Lydia -never has been able to forget that she is the living image of his -mother. It was probably a struggle--she intimated as much--for it sounds -so revolting, and a woman is supposed to be a lioness where her own -flesh and blood are concerned. But when it came to a choice between Guen -and Harry Spencer, she chose the one she cared for most." - -"And she really gets two millions? Why, she will be as rich as before." - -"Exactly. That's one of the interesting phases of the case. You see, -they couldn't afford to marry, for neither of them had any money to -speak of, though they were dead in love with each other. On the other -hand, they had never done anything--so Lydia swears, and I believe -her--which would entitle Herbert Maxwell to a divorce; so when Herbert -invited her to leave the house, she replied that she would, and that she -would take Guendolen with her. It just happened to occur to her, but the -effect was marvellous. It enabled her to hold over Herbert's head the -menace that, when parents who can't get on agree to separate, the courts -are likely to give a baby girl to the mother, and oblige the father to -be content with occasional reasonable visits. That frightened Herbert -nearly to death. It seems he raged like a bull--poor man!--and -threatened to shoot anyone who laid a finger on the child. Now comes -the really clever part," continued Mrs. Cole, with an appreciative sigh. -"Lydia had threatened to take Guen merely to gain time to think, but -when she realized that she and Harry Spencer could never be happy unless -she were willing to lead what the newspapers call a double life, she was -at her wits' end. Then the idea suddenly occurred to her, and--horrible -as it was at the first glance--it seemed the solution of everything. So -she engaged a lawyer to open negotiations with her husband, and she went -away to Mexico to give Herbert a chance to think over the proposal. She -lived in terror of centipedes while she was gone, but there were lots of -interesting old relics there, and one day she got a telegram from her -lawyer announcing that the whole thing was settled. The necessary papers -have been drawn, and as soon as the divorce is granted she will get the -money. What do you think of that? Isn't it original and revolting, and -yet, seeing that she is Lydia, comprehensible? And the most -extraordinary thing of all is that, when one considers the matter -dispassionately, it is not clear that it isn't the most sensible -arrangement all round." - -Rachel Baxter, being of a less philosophical turn of mind, was still -aghast. - -"What will people say?" she added naively, as one in monologue. "Of -course, they have their money." - -"They have their money, and Lydia proposes to come back here as soon as -she has--er--changed husbands. That's just like her, too. She intends -that Westfield shall treat her precisely as though nothing had -happened." - -"Really!" Mrs. Baxter's surprise showed a touch of consternation. "It -will be very awkward, won't it? Though, after all," she murmured, "it -isn't anything criminal, like--" She found difficulty in hitting on an -appropriate simile. Meanwhile Mrs. Cole added, dispassionately: - -"She would have come to-day, but she felt that she might be thought -indelicate, considering that it is a wedding, and that her own affairs -are still at sixes and sevens so far as appearances go. But she sent her -love to Peggy." - -At the moment they were dashing up the driveway of "Valley Farm." Mrs. -Baxter, who had been nursing her emotions as one whose ethical -sensibilities had received a blow in the solar plexus, made this attempt -at a summary: - -"It is diabolical, but interesting. I wonder what people will say." - -No time was lost by either of them in spreading the abnormal news. But -it suited pretty Mrs. Baxter's temperament better to follow in her -companion's wake, supplementing the narrative by ingenuous cooing -speeches rather than by an independent excursion. They joined at first -the procession of guests making snail-like progress toward the bride and -groom, who were holding court in the drawing-room of the decorative -modern mansion built for occupation from May to December. As chance -would have it, they found themselves next in line behind Mrs. Andrew -Cunningham, into whose ear Fannie Cole, bending forward, whispered -simply the fell words: - -"Lydia has sold Guendolen to her husband for two million dollars, and -is to marry Harry Spencer on the proceeds as soon as the divorce is -granted." - -The mother of the hunt made no sign for a moment, like one stunned. -Then, as comprehension of the facts dawned upon her, the blood mounted -to her face so that the crab-apples in her cheeks were very much in -evidence, and she bounced completely round. - -"That caps the climax! That is the most up-to-date, highly evolved -performance yet. Who told you?" The sardonic ire in her voice was -formidable. - -"Lydia--yesterday." - -Incredulity snatching at the chance of exaggeration was thus baffled. -"It's monstrous! I shall never speak to her again." - -Appalled by the bluntness of the threat, Mrs. Baxter interposed naively, -"But she is going to live here after she is married." - -"So much the better." Whereupon Mrs. Cunningham turned her back upon -them, in search of her husband, to whom she felt the urgent need of -imparting the information. - -Mrs. Cole nodded her head, as much as to say that she understood the -point of view, but her perspicuous philosophy prompted her to take a -much broader view of the situation. - -"It's dreadful, May, of course, and disconcerting to maternal notions," -she began; "but--" Then realizing that for the moment the indignant -censor was otherwise occupied, she decided to reserve her ameliorating -comments for a more favorable opportunity than the promiscuous line -afforded. After all, the episode was not meat for babes, and undeniably -deserved more than flippant treatment. - -The news thus unbosomed spread like wildfire. After kissing the bride, -Mrs. Cole, during her progress to the piazza and lawn, where many of the -guests were beginning to partake of refreshments appropriate to the -occasion, had the satisfaction of throwing it like a bombshell into -successive groups; while the Cunninghams lost no time in revealing what -they had heard. Wherever it was uttered it took the place of every other -topic, so that presently all the adults and many of the minors of the -company were feverishly discussing the social drama presented. - -The course of the wedding breakfast, thus enlivened, proceeded according -to programme. It was a felicitous scene, what with the balmy, brilliant -day, the brightly dressed assembly, and the picturesque addition of the -pack of hounds, which danced attendance at a respectful distance within -proper limits previously prepared for them. After everybody had -congratulated the happy pair, they showed themselves at an angle of the -piazza to cut the wedding-cake which stood festal and massive on an -adjacent table. - -Then at the proper moment the bride's health was proposed by Gerald -Marcy with dignity and grace, in pledge of which everybody's glass of -champagne was lifted and drained. The bridegroom, goaded into speech, -made a few halting remarks expressive of his own happiness and good -fortune, ending in a serious tag of chivalrous, if slightly involved, -sentiment, which evoked fresh enthusiasm. - -Toasts were drunk to the bridesmaids, the parents of the bride, and the -Hunt Club. In response to the last of these Mrs. Baxter's brother, Dick -Weston, who possessed a deep-toned voice, started the club-song, the -words of which had been composed by Andrew Cunningham in his salad days -under the inspiration of five Scotches and soda, and been adopted on the -occasion of its first delivery as the property of the colony: - - - Across the uplands brown we ride, - And our pulses bound with life's ruddy tide, - As we follow the hounds o'er the country-side - In the brisk October morning. - - -So he sang, and everybody joined in the refrain with genial gusto, not -excepting the bride--"Miss West Wind" still, in spite of her veil and -satin attire--who waved her glass and carolled with the rest, until even -the hounds seemed to catch the infection and added their notes to the -general jubilation. Then it transpired that stout Miss Marbury had found -the ring in her piece of wedding-cake. This was the source of some -merriment, amid which the bride slipped away to change her dress, and -the guests, left to their own devices, returned to their discussion of -the half-digested news. - -Gerald Marcy, who had heard it, like everybody else, with mingled revolt -and bewilderment, passed from his functions as toast-master to what -might be called the storm-centre of the animadversion, a small -summer-house or arbor on the trellis of which June roses were blowing, -and where the Andrew Cunninghams, Mrs. Cole, the Rev. Percy Ward, and -several others were congregated. He arrived just as the rector was -exclaiming, with pained fervor: - -"We have here the logical fruits of the present-day degenerate -readiness to put off one husband or wife in order to marry another. If -every clergyman in the land were to bind himself never to perform the -marriage service in the case of any recently divorced person, some -headway might be made against this social pest--the canker-worm of -modern family life." - -The symbolic allusion to canker-worms caused nimble-minded Mrs. Cole to -glance up involuntarily at the vines to meet some impending danger to -her summer finery at the same moment that she replied: - -"I don't think it would make much difference, if you'll pardon my saying -so, Mr. Ward--with Lydia, I mean. She would be content with a justice of -the peace if a clergyman were not forthcoming. But," she continued, with -increasing volubility, "what, of course, you wish to know is whether -there is anything which will keep people of our sort--not the wives of -the toiling masses whose husbands beat them and who feel that they ought -to be allowed to solace themselves with a second, but the four hundred, -so to speak, and their friends--from trifling with the marriage -relation. There's only one remedy, in my opinion, though I don't wish to -be understood as advocating it in Lydia's case, for I'm her closest -friend, and she isn't here to defend herself. But if, as appearances -indicate, she has overstepped the limit--though you all admit that the -situation was a tremendous one--the only thing which would cut her to -the quick would be if the people whose friendship she values were to -turn the cold shoulder on her. That's the only criticism she would -really care for, Mr. Ward," she concluded alertly, with her head poised -on one side. Mrs. Cole's interest in philosophical discussion was not to -be repressed even by her loyalty. - -"Ah!" exclaimed the clergyman approvingly. "The force of public opinion! -The Church is merely trying to lead public opinion. If public opinion -will act of its own accord, so much the better." Mr. Ward, though -faithful to his principles, was not averse to let this section of his -flock perceive that he welcomed righteousness from whatever source it -proceeded, as became a liberal-minded Christian. - -"What constitutes public opinion in this country?" asked Gerald Marcy. -"One of the evils of universal liberty is that there are no recognized -standards of behavior. It is all go-as-you-please." - -"Amen," ejaculated the rector. - -"Consequently," continued Gerald, pursuing the thread of his -contemplation, "a social boycott, such as Mrs. Cole suggests, becomes -effective only when the particular set to which an offender belongs -chooses to take the initiative--which is awkward, for where exactly is -one to draw the line?" - -"I, for one, feel as though I never wished to speak to her again," said -Mrs. Cunningham. - -"She certainly deserves to be cut," said her husband, doughtily. Yet he -added, "It would be precious hard to manage, though--not to mention -inconvenient--if she comes to live at Norrey's Knoll and everything is -patched up according to law." - -"There you are, you see!" exclaimed Gerald. "I tell you," he said, with -a tug at his mustache, "that it's very difficult to cut people whom one -has known all one's life, unless they've committed murder or -embezzled." - -"It isn't as though she were a bigamist or living in--in violation of -the seventh commandment," remarked Mrs. Baxter dreamily, remembering -just in time to round out her sentence with decorum for the benefit of -Mr. Ward. - -The rector jumped at the opportunity offered. "Isn't that just what she -is doing? It is precisely that from the Church's point of view." - -"If the Church would only pass a canon forbidding us to call on women -who get divorced in order to marry someone else, it would be easier to -take such a stand," remarked Mrs. Cole. - -"But it isn't the divorce I mind so much. It's her selling Guendolen," -exclaimed Mrs. Cunningham, with the honesty of her temperament. "We -couldn't ostracize her simply because she has got a divorce and married -again, for there are so many others." Her tone showed that she realized -the impracticability of a social crusade based solely on the existence -in the flesh of a previous wife or husband. Yet she yearned for action -in this particular case. But what could one woman do alone? - -"On the contrary, it seems to me a grand opportunity, ladies," said the -clergyman stoutly. "The conduct of the offending parties in this -instance represents individual selfishness and license carried to the -culminating point. Because you may have neglected to do your duty in -respect to the others is no justification for flinching now. It's the -whole degraded system, root and branch, which I am fulminating against; -but here we have a concrete, monstrous instance which invites action. -Is ostracism never to be invoked, as Mr. Marcy intimates, except in the -case of the taking of life or where the pocket is affected?" - -There was a painful silence. For a wedding reception the discussion was -becoming decidedly forensic. - -"We must think it over," said Mrs. Cunningham. "If none of us women were -to invite her to our houses or go to hers--" She paused without -completing her sentence, evidently appalled by the vista of social -complications which it opened up. - -"There's nothing else in the wide world which Lydia would mind," said -Mrs. Cole ruminantly. "But it would break her heart." - -"Even a stone can break," Gerald could not refrain from whispering in -the speaker's shell-like ear. - -"That's not fair. You do not understand her, my friend. She sold Guen -to make sure of Harry Spencer." Mrs. Cole answered in the same -undertone, "When he is concerned she is a perfect volcano." - -"Theoretically," continued the grizzled satirist aloud, with a bow of -deference in the direction of the clergyman, "I should like, as a censor -of modern social degeneracy, to see it tried, but--but practically it -seems to me to be out of the question." - -"One woman alone couldn't do it, anyway," blurted out Mrs. Cunningham, -in the accents of dogged distress. - -Just then the murmurs of a small commotion broke in upon their dialogue, -and all eyes were turned in the direction of the front door. - -"The bride is going to start, and she has dropped a comb. If she isn't -careful, her hair will come down after all!" exclaimed Mrs. Baxter by -way of elucidation. - - * * * * * * - -One forenoon in the month of July, a year later, the lawn-tennis courts -of the Westfield Hunt Club were all occupied. The reason was clear; -tennis had become the fashionable sport. Some of the younger spirits, -who found golf too gentle a form of exercise, had rebelled successfully -against the predominance of that pastime. Consequently all the people of -every age who try to do what the rest of the world is doing had -consigned their golf clubs to the recesses of their hall closets and -bought rackets. Until the present year two courts, both of dirt, had -amply supplied the needs of the members; indeed, they had often remained -vacant for days at a time. Now even four additional courts failed to -meet current demands, and everybody wished to play on those made of -grass, of which there were but two. - -On this particular morning these were in the possession of two pairs of -women players, who might be said to represent the antipodes of feminine -skill at the game. A couple of the younger matrons, Mrs. Reynolds and -Mrs. Miller, both adepts, were engaged in a close, fast contest. Their -balls flew low and swiftly, and their long rallies called forth frequent -applause from the spectators, chiefly women, sitting on benches along -the side lines or on the piazza, as one or the other of the lithe young -women, whose restricted, dainty, diaphanous white skirts seemed almost -glued to their figures, would pick up the ball when it appeared to be -out of reach by dint of a brilliant dash. The other pair of opponents -were Miss Marbury, looking stouter than ever in flannels, and Mrs. -Gordon Wallace. They were tossing slow, high lobs and getting very warm -in the process. They puffed and panted audibly, although the ball struck -the net or flew out of bounds much of the time. Yet they had the -satisfaction of knowing that they were in fashion; moreover, they had -the sanction of their physicians, who advised the exercise as an -antidote against corpulency and rheumatism. - -Most of the men had gone to the city. Douglas Hale and Gerald Marcy were -on one of the dirt courts, and Walter Cole, who was taking his vacation, -was playing golf with Kenneth Post. One solitary woman, Mrs. Cunningham, -was on the links with her husband. She had demurred stoutly at the -contagion of the new fever, and still remained faithful to the -fascination of the royal and ancient game. The centre of club life was -undeniably the tennis courts, and thither all those who arrived directed -their footsteps. - -Mrs. Reynolds and Mrs. Miller having finished three sets, repaired to an -isolated bench to enjoy a soda-lemonade and to cool off under the -influences of a friendly chat. Mrs. Reynolds, who, as has been -intimated, wore the breath of life in her nostrils, had got slightly the -better of her adversary, and was inclined therefore to be on the alert, -if not perky. Her ears were the first to detect the whir of an -automobile, and she pricked them up. Then the toot of a horn fixed -everyone's attention on the approaching monster, for automobiles were -still more or less of a novelty, and engendered curiosity. In another -instant a huge machine, of bridal white, as Mrs. Baxter subsequently -described it, tore around the corner of the road, and, dashing past the -occupants of the tennis courts, swept up to the ladies' entrance of the -club-house, where it paused, snorting like a huge dragon. It was the -largest and most imposing "bubble" which Westfield had gazed upon. Many -of the spectators left their places to examine it, and everyone's head -was turned in that direction. - -[Illustration: A huge machine of bridal white ... tore around the -corner.] - -"It is they!" said Mrs. Reynolds with emphasis; then, after a pause, she -asked: "Are you going to-morrow afternoon?" - -"I suppose so. As it was a 'request the pleasure,' I had to answer, and -we didn't have an engagement. Besides, she has brought home some lovely -new tapestries, and we are asked to meet an Eastern soothsayer, who is -said to be a marvel at mind-reading. Mrs. Charles Haviland and half a -dozen women, who are supposed to be fastidious, are coming from town, so -my husband seemed to think we had better go." - -"It's because she's artistic that she is forgiven, so my husband says, -and of course if everyone else is going to 'Norrey's Knoll' there is no -sense in our turning up our noses at the new master and mistress." - -"Is Mrs. Cunningham going?" asked Mrs. Miller. - -"I hear that Dick Weston has bet Mr. Douglas Hale fifty dollars to -twenty-five that she does." - -"I suppose Lydia and her husband have come to lunch and play bridge," -said Mrs. Miller musingly. "They say she plays wonderfully--almost as -well as he does. My husband objects to my playing for money." - -"So does mine. He says it is bad form--vulgar for women--and that it is -bringing American society down to the level of the four Georges. But how -about men? I obey him, because I am of the dutiful kind. But how about -men?" she reiterated trenchantly. - -Mrs. Miller dodged the question. "I should fall in a fit if I lost -seventy-five dollars in an afternoon, as some of them do." - -"They say one gets used to it. I have made Alfred promise to give me an -automobile as an indemnity for refusing to play. I must be in fashion to -that extent anyway." - -Mrs. Miller laughed. They were now practically alone. The occupants of -the tennis courts, both women and men, had drifted toward the club -entrance, where they stood admiring the new machine and exchanging -greetings with the newly married owners. The Spencers had been in -possession of "Norrey's Knoll"--which Herbert Maxwell had sold to -Lydia--about three weeks, and on the morrow were to hold an afternoon -reception for the latest social novelty, an Eastern sorceress. From -where they sat the two young women were able to perceive what was going -on, and presumably it was the sight of the grizzled Gerald Marcy -bandying persiflage with Mrs. Spencer which furnished the cue to Mrs. -Miller's next remark: - -"Mr. Marcy says that 'bridge' is essentially a gambling game," she -responded a little mournfully, "and that to play it properly one should -play for money, if at all." - -"Mr. Marcy says also, my dears, that there are no recognized standards -of behavior in this country. It is all go-as-you-please," said a -sardonic voice close behind them. They turned in surprise. So absorbed -had they been in their dialogue and in watching the arrival of the -Spencers that they had failed to notice the approach of Mrs. Andrew -Cunningham. - -"And he is right," continued that lady, tossing her golf clubs on the -grass with a somewhat dejected air. "I am going to surrender." - -Thereupon she accepted the space which the others made for her on the -bench, and folding her arms turned her gaze in the direction of the -white monster and its satellites. The elder matron vouchsafed no -immediate key to the riddle she had just enunciated. Mrs. Reynolds -stooped, and picking up the bag of golf clubs examined them with an air -of one who scans ancient, fusty relics. - -"I can't imagine," she said, "how you can keep on playing golf now that -everyone is crazy about tennis." - -Mrs. Cunningham smiled wanly. "That's what I meant," she answered. "I'm -going to begin tennis to-morrow--and I'm also going to Lydia Spencer's -reception. My spirit of opposition is broken." - -"Yes," continued the mother of the hunt, in an apostrophizing tone, as -though she still felt herself on the defensive, "every one is going, and -most of the nice people are coming from town. So why should I be stuffy -and bite my own nose off? Which goes far to prove, my dears," she added, -sententiously, "that the only unpardonable social sin in this country -is to lose one's money. Nothing else really counts." - -"Oh!" exclaimed the two young women together with animation, as each -reflected that Dick Weston had won his bet. - - - - -BOOKS BY ROBERT GRANT - - -"As an observer of American men and women and things Judge Grant is -without a rival."--_The Critic._ - -"He has proved himself a domestic and social philosopher, happily -commingling sharp vision with a good deal of rational philosophy -touching practical matters and every-day relationships."--_The Outlook._ - - -The Undercurrent - -Illustrated by F. C. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Orchid - -Author: Robert Grant - -Illustrator: Alonzo Kimball - -Release Date: December 11, 2016 [EBook #53711] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ORCHID *** - - - - -Produced by Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="center"><a name="cover.jpg" id="cover.jpg"></a><img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="cover" /></div> - -<hr /> - -<div class="center"><a name="i002.jpg" id="i002.jpg"></a><img src="images/i002.jpg" alt="I ask you to drink to the happiness of the loveliest woman in creation" /></div> - -<p class="bold">"I ask you to drink to the happiness of the loveliest woman in creation."</p> - -<hr /> - -<div class="center"><img src="images/titlepage.jpg" alt="title page" /></div> - -<hr /> - -<h1>THE ORCHID</h1> - -<p class="bold space-above">BY</p> - -<p class="bold">ROBERT GRANT</p> - -<p class="bold space-above">ILLUSTRATED BY<br />ALONZO KIMBALL</p> - -<p class="bold space-above">CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS<br />NEW YORK:::::::::::::::1905</p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="center">Copyright, 1905, by<br /><span class="smcap">Charles Scribner's Sons</span><br /> -——<br /><i>Published, April, 1905</i></p> - -<p class="center space-above">TROW DIRECTORY<br />PRINTING AND BOOKBINDING COMPANY<br />NEW YORK</p> - -<hr /> - -<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> - -<table summary="ILLUSTRATIONS"> - <tr> - <td class="left">"<i>I ask you to drink to the happiness of the<br /> - loveliest woman in creation</i>"</td> - <td><a href="#i002.jpg">Frontispiece</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td></td> - <td><span class="smaller">Facing<br />Page</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><i>The smile of incredulity which curved her<br /> - lips betrayed entertainment also</i></td> - <td><a href="#i115.jpg">108</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left"><i>"I should not permit it!" he thundered.<br /> - "I should go to law; I should appeal<br /> - to the courts"</i></td> - <td><a href="#i165.jpg">156</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class="left">"<i>A huge machine of bridal white ... tore<br /> - around the corner</i>"</td> - <td><a href="#i233.jpg">222</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> - -<p class="bold2">THE ORCHID</p> - -<h2>I</h2> - -<p>It was generally recognized that Lydia Arnold's perceptions were quicker -than those of most other people. She was alert in grasping the -significance of what was said to her; her face clearly revealed this. -She had the habit of deliberating just an instant before responding, -which marked her thought; and when she spoke, her words had a succinct -definiteness of their own. The quality of her voice arrested attention. -The intonation was finished yet dry: finished in that it was well -modulated; dry in that it was void of enthusiasm.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p><p>Yet Lydia was far from a grave person. She laughed readily and freely, -but in a minor key, which was only in keeping with her other attributes -of fastidiousness. Her mental acuteness and conversational poise were -accounted for at Westfield—the town within the limits of which dwelt -the colony of which she was a member—by the tradition that she had read -everything, or, more accurately, that she had been permitted to read -everything while still a school-girl.</p> - -<p>Her mother, a beautiful, nervous invalid—one of those mysterious -persons whose peculiarities are pigeon-holed in the memories of their -immediate families—had died in Lydia's infancy. Her amiable but -self-indulgent father had been too easy-going or too obtuse to follow -the details of her home-training. He had taken refuge<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> from qualms or -perplexities by providing a governess, a well-equipped, matronly -foreigner, from whom she acquired a correct French accent and composed -deportment, both of which were now marks of distinction. Mlle. Demorest -would have been the last woman to permit a <i>jeune fille</i> to browse -unreservedly in a collection of miscellaneous French novels. But Lydia -saw no reason why she should inform her preceptress that, having entered -her father's library in search of "Ivanhoe" and the "Dutch Republic," -she had gone there later to peruse the works of Flaubert, Octave -Feuillet, and Guy de Maupassant. Why, indeed? For, to begin with, was -she not an American girl, and free to do as she chose? And then again -the evolution was gradual; she had reached this stage of culture by -degrees. She read everything<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> which the library contained—poetry, -history, philosophy, fiction—and having exhausted these resources, she -turned her attention outside, and became an omnivorous devourer of -current literature.</p> - -<p>Before her "coming-out" party she was familiar with all the "up-to-date" -books, and had opinions on many problems, sexual and otherwise, though -be it said she was an eminently proper young person in her language and -behavior, and her knowingness, so far as appeared, was merely -intellectual. Early in the day her father's scrutiny was forever dazzled -by the assuring discovery that she was immersed in Scott. Mr. Arnold had -been told by some of his contemporaries that the rising generation did -not read Sir Walter, a heresy so damnable that when he found his -daughter pale with interest over the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span>sorrows of the "Bride of -Lammermoor," he jumped to the conclusion that her literary taste was -conservative, and gave no more thought to this feature of her education. -Presently he did what he considered the essentially paternal -thing—introduced her to the social world through the medium of a -magnificent ball, which taxed his income though he had been preparing -for it for a year or two. As one of a bevy of pretty, innocent-looking -maidens in white tulle, Lydia attracted favorable comment from the -outset by her piquant expression and stylish figure. But shortly after -the close of her first season she was driven into retirement by her -father's death, and when next she appeared on the horizon, sixteen -months later, it was as a spirited follower of the hounds belonging to -the Westfield Hunt Club.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p><p>On the crisp autumn day when this story opens, the members of that -energetic body were eagerly discussing the interesting proposition -whether or not Miss Lydia Arnold was going to accept Herbert Maxwell as -a husband. This was the universal query, and the point had been agitated -for the past six weeks with increasing curiosity. The hunting season was -now nearing its close, and the lover was still setting a tremendous -pace, but none of the closest feminine friends of the young woman in -question appeared to have inside information. Even her bosom friend, -Mrs. Walter Cole, as she joined the meet that morning, could only say in -answer to inquiries that Lydia was mum as an oyster.</p> - -<p>"I suppose the reflection that the offspring might resemble Grandma -Maxwell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> tends to counteract the glamour of the four millions," remarked -one of the group, Gerald Marcy, a middle-aged bachelor with a partiality -for cynical sallies—also an ex-master of the hounds and one of the -veterans of the colony. He was mounted on a solid roan hunter slightly -but becomingly grizzled like himself. Thereupon he gave a twist to his -mustache, as he was apt to do after uttering what he thought was a good -thing. Most of the Westfield Hunt Club were clean-shaven young men who -regarded a mustache as a hirsute superfluity. The nucleus of the club -had been formed twenty years previous—in the late seventies—at which -time it was the fashion to wear hair on the face, but of the small band -of original members some had grown too stout or too shaky to hunt, most -had families which forbade them to run<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> the risk of breaking their -necks, and others were dead.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Cole's reply was uttered so that only Marcy heard it. Perhaps she -feared to shock the smooth-shaven younger men, for, though she prided -herself on her complete sophistication in regard to the world and its -ways, one evidence of it was that she suited her conversation to the -person with whom she was talking. There are points of view which a young -matron can discuss with a middle-aged bachelor which might embarrass or -be misinterpreted by less experienced males. So she caused her pony to -bound a little apart before she said to Marcy, who followed her:</p> - -<p>"I doubt very much if children of her own are included in Lydia's scheme -of life."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Cole was a bright-eyed, vivacious<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> woman, who talked fast and -cleverly. She was fond of making paradoxical remarks, and of defending -her theses stoutly. She glanced sideways at her companion to observe the -effect of this animadversion, then, bending, patted the neck of her -palfrey caressingly. She was herself the mother of two chubby infants, -and, out of deference to domestic claims, she no longer followed the -hounds, but simply took a morning spin to the meets on a safe hack.</p> - -<p>Marcy smiled appreciatively. As a man of the world he felt bound to do -this, yet as a man of the world he felt shocked at the hypothesis. Race -suicide was in his eyes a cardinal sin compared with which youthful -indiscretions resulting from hot blood appeared trifling and normal. -Besides, it was deliberate rebellion against the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> vested rights of man. -This latter consideration gave the cue to his slightly dogged answer.</p> - -<p>"I rather think that Herbert Maxwell would have something to say about -that."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Cole surveyed him archly, meditating a convincing retort, when -suddenly a new group of riders appeared over the crest of an intervening -hill. "Here they are!" she cried with a gusto which proclaimed that the -opportunity for subtle confabulation on the point at issue was at an -end.</p> - -<p>The newcomers, all ardent hunting spirits—Mr. and Mrs. Andrew -Cunningham, Miss Peggy Blake, Miss Lydia Arnold, Guy Perry and Herbert -Maxwell—came speeding forward at a brisk gallop. Mrs. Cunningham—May -Cunningham—was a short, dumpy woman, amiable and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> popular, but hard -featured, as though she had burned the candle in social comings and -goings in her youth, which indeed was the case. But since her marriage -she had by way of settling down fixed her energies on cross-country -riding, and was familiarly known as the mother of the hunt. She had an -excellent seat. She and her husband, a burly sportsman whose ruling -passion was to reduce his weight below two hundred pounds, and whose -predilection for gaudy effects in waistcoats and stocks always pushed -the prevailing fashion hard, were prime movers in the Westfield set. -They had no children, and, as Mrs. Cole once said, it sometimes seemed -as though the hounds took the place of them.</p> - -<p>Miss Peggy Blake was a breezy Amazon, comely, long-limbed and -enthusiastic, of many adjectives but simple soul, whose<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> hair was apt to -tumble down at inopportune moments, but who stuck at nothing which -promised fresh physical exhilaration. Guy Perry, a young broker who had -made a fortune in copper stocks, was one of her devoted swains. But -dashingly as she rode, her carriage lacked Lydia Arnold's distinction -and witchery. Indeed, that slight, dainty young person seemed a part of -the animal, so gracefully and jauntily did she follow the movements of -her rangy, spirited thoroughbred. When Gerald Marcy exclaimed fervently, -"By Jove, but she rides well!" no one of the awaiting group was doubtful -as to whom he meant.</p> - -<p>Keeping as close to his Dulcinea as he could, but not quite abreast, -came Herbert Maxwell, a rather lumbering equestrian. Fashion had led -him, the previous season,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> as a young man with great possessions, to -follow the hounds, but sedately, as became a somewhat sober novice. Love -now spurred him to take the highest stone walls, and for the purpose he -had bought a couple of famous hunters. He had long ago dismissed both -fear and caution, and had eyes only for the nape of Miss Arnold's neck -as they sped over hill and dale. Twice in the last six weeks he had come -a cropper, as the phrase is, and been cut up a bit, but he still rode -valiantly, bent on running the risk of a final tumble which would break -not his ribs but his heart. In every-day life he appeared large and -above the average height, with reddish-brown hair and eyebrows and a -somewhat grave countenance—rather a nondescript young man, but entirely -unobjectionable; the sort of personality which, as Lydia's friends were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> -saying, a clever woman could mould into a solid if not ornamental social -pillar.</p> - -<p>For Herbert Maxwell was a new man. That is, the parents of the members -of the Westfield Hunt Club remembered his father as a dealer in -furniture, selling goods in his own store, a red-visaged round-faced, -stubby looking citizen with a huge standing collar gaping at the front. -Though he had grown rich in the process, settled in the fashionable -quarter of the city and sent his boy to college in order to make -desirable friends and get a good education, it could not be denied that -he smelt of varnish metaphorically if not actually, and that Herbert -was, so to speak, on the defensive from a social point of view. -Everybody's eye was on him to see that he did not make some "break," and -inasmuch as he was commonly, if patronizingly,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> spoken of as "a very -decent sort of chap," it may be taken for granted that he had managed to -escape serious criticism. His sober manner was partly to be accounted -for by his determination to keep himself well in hand, which had been -formed ten years previous, during his Freshman year, when one of his -classmates, to the manner born, informed him in a moment of frankness -that he was too loud-mouthed for success.</p> - -<p>This had been the turning-point in his career; he had been toning down -ever since; he had been cultivating reserve, checking all temptations -toward extravagance of speech, deportment or dress, and, in short, had -become convincingly repressed—that is, up to the hour of his -infatuation for Lydia Arnold. Since then he had let himself go, yet not -indecorously,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> and with due regard to the proprieties. All the world -loves a lover, and to the Westfield Hunt Club Herbert Maxwell's kicking -over the bars of colorless conventionality appeared both pardonable and -refreshing, especially as it was recognized that the manifestations of -his ardor, though unmistakable, had not been lacking in taste. The -sternest censors of society had not the heart to sneer at the possessor -of four millions because the entertainments which he gave in his lady -love's honor were more sumptuous than the occasion demanded, and that in -his solicitude to keep up with her on the hunting field he was an easy -victim to the horse-dealers. Before the bar of nice judgment it was -tacitly admitted that he appeared to better advantage than if he had -ambled after his goddess with the lacklustre indifference which some of -his betters<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> were apt to affect. It takes one to the manner born to be -listless in love and yet prevail; and so it was that Maxwell's reversion -to breakneck manners had given a pleasant thrill to this fastidious -colony.</p> - -<p>Gay greetings and felicitations on the beauty of the day for hunting -purposes were exchanged between the new-comers and their friends. The -men in their red coats had a word of gallantry or chaff for every woman. -New equestrians appeared approaching from diverse directions, while -suddenly from the kennels a few rods distant issued a barking, snuffing -pack of eager hounds, conducted by Kenneth Post, the master, whose -expansive high white stock and shining black leather boots proclaimed -that he took his functions seriously. This was a red-letter day for him, -as he had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> invited the hunt to breakfast with him at the club-house -after the run.</p> - -<p>Lydia, on her arrival, had guided her thoroughbred to the other side of -Mrs. Cole so deftly that her admirer was shut out from immediate -pursuit. At a glance from her the two women's heads bent close together -in scrutiny of some disarrangement in her riding-habit.</p> - -<p>"Fanny," she whispered, "I've done it."</p> - -<p>"Lydia! When did it happen?"</p> - -<p>"Last evening. I've given him permission to announce it at the -breakfast."</p> - -<p>"My dear, I'm just thrilled. You've kept us all guessing."</p> - -<p>"I've heard that the betting was even," answered Lydia with dry -complacency. The intimation that she had kept the world in the dark was -evidently agreeable. "I wished you to know first of all."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span></p><p>"That was lovely of you. And how clever to escape the bore of writing -all those hateful notes! That was just like you, Lydia."</p> - -<p>"I know a girl who wrote two hundred, and the day they were ready to be -sent out changed her mind. I don't wish to run the risk. Here comes Mr. -Marcy."</p> - -<p>Fannie Cole gave her hand an ecstatic squeeze and they lifted their -heads to meet the common enemy, man. It was time to start, and he was -solicitous lest something were wrong with Miss Arnold's saddle girths.</p> - -<p>"Beauty in distress?" he murmured with a tug at his mustache. Marcy had -his commonplace saws, like most of us.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Cole was opening her mouth to reassure him on that score when she -was forestalled by Lydia.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p><p>"That's a question, Mr. Marcy, which can be more easily answered a year -or two hence."</p> - -<p>Marcy bowed low in his saddle. "At your pleasure, of course. I did not -come to pry." At his best Marcy had quick perceptions and could put two -and two together. He was assisted to the divination that something was -in the wind by catching sight at the moment of Herbert Maxwell's -countenance. That worthy had been blocked in his progress by pretty Mrs. -Baxter, who, having resented his attempt to squeeze past her by the -following remark, had barred his way with her horse's flank.</p> - -<p>"We all know where you are heading, Mr. Maxwell, but as a punishment for -endeavoring to shove me aside you must pay toll by talking to me for a -little."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p><p>The culprit had started and stared like one awakened in his sleep, and -stammered his apologies to his laughing tormentor. But while she kept -him at bay, his eyes could not help straying beyond her toward the woman -of his heart, and it was their peculiar expression which drew from Marcy -the remark which he referred to later as an inspiration.</p> - -<p>"It's not exactly pertinent to the subject, Miss Arnold, but Herbert -Maxwell has the look this morning of having seen the Holy Grail."</p> - -<p>Lydia calmly turned her graceful head in the direction indicated, then -facing her interrogator, said oracularly after a pause: "The wisest men -are liable to see false visions. But provided they are happy, does it -really matter, Mr. Marcy?"</p> - -<p>Whereupon, without waiting for a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>response to this Delphic utterance, -she tapped her thoroughbred with her hunting crop and cantered forward -to take her place in the van of those about to follow the hounds.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> - -<h2>II</h2> - -<p>Mrs. Walter Cole was glad to find herself alone after the hounds were -off. Without waiting to be joined by any women, who, like herself, had -come to see the start and intended to jog on the flank, cut corners and -so be in at the finish, she put her hack at a brisk canter in the -direction of a neighboring copse, seeking a bridle-path through the -woods which would bring her out not far from the club-house after a -pleasant circuit. She was indeed thrilled, and, inasmuch as she must -remain tongue-tied, she could not bear the society of her sex, and -sought solitude and reverie. And so Lydia had done it. Intimate as they -were, she had been kept guessing like the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> rest, and up to the moment of -the disclosure of the absorbing confidence she had never been able to -feel sure whether Lydia would or not. Lydia married! And if so? She -would have been sure to marry some day; and to marry an entirely -reputable and presentable man with four millions was, after all, an -eminently normal proceeding.</p> - -<p>Yet somehow it was one thing to think of her as liable to marry, another -to recognize that she was actually engaged. It was the concrete reality -of Lydia Arnold married and settled which set Mrs. Cole's nimble brain -spinning with speculative, sympathetic interest as the dry autumn leaves -cracked under the hoofs of her walking horse, to which she had given a -loose rein. Lydia had such highly evolved ideas of her own; and how -would they accord<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> with the connubial relation? Not that she knew these -ideas in specific detail, for Lydia had never hinted at a system; but -from time to time in the relaxations of spirit intimacy there had been -droppings—flashes—innuendoes, which had set the world in a new light, -blazed the path as it were for a new feminine philosophy, and which to a -clever woman like herself, fastened securely by domestic ties to the -existing order of things, were alike entertaining and suggestive. Mrs. -Cole drew a deep breath, as once more recurred to her sundry remarks -which had provided her already that morning with material for causing no -less experienced a person than Mr. Gerald Marcy to prick up his ears. -She and her husband had set up housekeeping on a humble scale—almost -poverty from the Westfield point of view—and she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> remembered the -contemplative silence more eloquent than words when, three years -previous, hungry for enthusiasm, she had taken Lydia into the nursery to -admire her first-born. All her other unmarried friends had gone into -ecstasies over baby, as became true daughters of Eve. Lydia, after long -scrutiny, had simply said:</p> - -<p>"Well, dear, I suppose you think it's worth while."</p> - -<p>Thus wondering how Lydia would deal with the problems of matrimony, and -almost bursting with her secret, Mrs. Cole walked her horse until the -novelty of the revelation had worn off a little. When she left the -covert at a point suggested by the baying of the dogs, she caught a -glimpse of the hunt on the opposite side of the horizon to that where it -had disappeared from view. Assuming that the finish was likely<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> to occur -in the meadow lands in the rear of the club-house, she proceeded to -gallop briskly across the intervening valley in the hope of anticipating -the hounds. Time, however, had slipped away faster than she supposed. At -all events, when she was still some little distance from the field which -was her destination she beheld the hounds scampering down the slope from -the woodlands beyond. A moment later the air resounded with their -yelpings as they attacked the raw meat provided as a reward for the -deceit imposed on them by the anise-seed scent. Close on their heels -came the Master and the leading spirits of the chase, and by the time -Mrs. Cole arrived the entire hunt had put in an appearance or been -accounted for, and was proceeding leisurely toward the club, gayly -comparing notes on the incidents of the run. There<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> had been amusing -casualties. Douglas Hale's horse, having failed to clear a ditch, had -tossed its ponderous rider over its head—happily without serious -consequences—and in the act of floundering out had planted a shower of -mud on the person of Guy Perry, so that the ordinarily spruce young -broker was a sight to behold.</p> - -<p>The Westfield Hunt Club was one of a number of social colonies in the -eastern section of the country which in the course of the last -twenty-five years have come into being and flourished. Three principal -causes have contributed to their evolution: the increase in wealth and -in the number of people with comfortable means, the growing partiality -for outdoor athletic sports, and the tendency on the part of those who -could afford two homes to escape<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> the stuffy air of the cities during as -many months as possible, and on the part of young couples with only one -home to set up their household gods in the country. Our ancestors of -consideration were apt to hug the cities and towns. Their summer -excursions to the seaside rarely began before July, and fathers of -families preferred to be safe at home before the brewing of the -equinoxial storm. But the towering bricks and mortar and increasing -pressure of urban life have little by little prolonged the season of -emancipation in the fresh air, and spacious modern villas, with many -bath-rooms and all the modern improvements, have supplanted the -primitive cottages of the former generation, just as the rank fields of -gay butter-cups and daisies have given place to velvety lawns, extensive -stables, and terraced Italian gardens.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></p><p>The Westfield Hunt Club was primarily a sporting colony—that is, -outdoor sport was its ruling passion. Cross-country riding had been its -first love, at a time when the free-born farmers of the neighborhood -looked askance at the introduction of what they considered dudish -British innovations. Yet it promptly offered hospitality to the rising -interest in sports of every kind, and the devotees of tennis, polo and -golf found there ample accommodation for the pursuit of their favorite -pastimes.</p> - -<p>At the date of our narrative the interest in tennis was at a minimum; -polo, always a sport in which none but the prosperous few can afford to -shine, had only a small following; but golf was at the height of its -fashionable ascendency. Everybody was playing golf, not only the young -and supple, the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>middle-aged and persevering, but every man however -clumsy and every woman however feeble or gawky who felt constrained to -follow the latest social fad as a law of his or her being. Every links -in the country was crowded with agitated followers of the royal and -ancient game, who bought clubs galore in the constant hope of acquiring -distance and escaping bunkers, and who were alternately pitied and -bullied by the attendant army of caddies, sons of the small farmers -whose views regarding British innovations had been substantially -modified by the accompanying shower of American quarters and dimes.</p> - -<p>Indeed, it may be said that the attitude of the country-side regarding -all the doings of the colony had undergone a gradual but complete -change. This was due to the largess and social tact of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> new-comers. -To begin with, they were eager to pay roundly for the privilege of -trampling down crops and riding through fences. Having thus put matters -on a liberal pecuniary basis, they endeavored to translate grim -forbearance for business reasons into a more genial frame of mind by -horse shows with popular features, and country fairs where fat prizes -for large vegetables and free dinners bore testimony to the good-will of -the promoters. A ball at which the pink-coated male members of the club -danced with the farmers' wives and daughters, and Mrs. Andrew -Cunningham, with a corps of fair assistants, stood up with the country -swains while they cut pigeon-wings in utter gravity, was an annual sop -to local sensibilities and a bid for popular regard. Little by little -the neighborhood had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> thawed. Surely the new-comers must be good -fellows, if Westfield's tax receipts were growing in volume without -demur, and there was constantly increasing employment for the people not -only on the public roads, but in carpentry, plumbing, and all sorts of -jobs on the new places, besides a splendid market for their sheep and -chickens and garden produce. From Westfield's standpoint the ways of -some of these individuals with "money to burn" were puzzling, but if -grown-up folk could find amusement in chasing a little white ball across -country, the common sense of Westfield could afford to be indulgent -under existing circumstances.</p> - -<p>The quarters to which the hunting party now repaired in gay spirits was, -as its appearance indicated, a farm-house of ancient aspect, which had -been altered over<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> to begin with, and been amplified later to suit the -greater requirements of the club. The rambling effect of the low-studded -rooms had been enhanced by sundry wings and annexes, the result of which -was far from convincing architecturally, but which suggested a quaint -cosiness very satisfying and precious to the original members. Progress, -reform, innovation—call it what you will—was already rife in the -colony itself, a case, it would seem, of refining gold or painting the -lily. One had only to observe the more elaborate character of the new -houses to be convinced of this. The pioneers had been content to leave -the original structures standing, and to do them over with new plumbing -and new wall-papers. Then it occurred to some one richer than his -fellows, or whose wife remembered the scriptural admonition<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> against -putting new wine into old bottles, to pull down an ancient farm-house -and replace it with a comely modern villa. The villa was simple and an -ornament to the landscape, and though the wiseacres shook their heads -and described it as an entering wedge, the general consensus of the -colony declared it an improvement. Others followed suit, and within two -years there was a dozen of these pleasant-looking homes in the vicinity.</p> - -<p>But latterly a new tendency had manifested itself. Three sportsmen of -large possessions, who had decided to spend most of the year in the -country, had erected establishments on an imposing scale, very spacious, -very stately, with extensive stables and all the appurtenances befitting -a magnificent country-seat. As the owners were building simultaneously,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> -there had naturally been some rivalry to produce the most imposing -result. The effect of these splendors was already perceptible. Others -with large possessions were talking of invading Westfield, land was -rising in value, and it cost the colony more to entertain. Most terrible -of all to the pioneers, there was unconcealed whispering that the -club-house must come down and be replaced by a convenient modern -structure; that more commodious stables were needed; that the golf links -should be materially lengthened, and that both the annual dues and the -membership must be increased to help provide for these improvements. As -a consequence most of the old members were irate on the subject, and -Gerald Marcy was quoted as having said that to do away with the original -quarters would be an act of sacrilege.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p><p>"Are not the rafters sacred from time-honored association?" he had -inquired in a voice trembling with emotion.</p> - -<p>"Principally with champagne," had been Guy Perry's comment on this -fervent apostrophe. Youth is fickle and partial to change. Guy voiced -the sentiment of the younger element in craving modern comfort and -conveniences, which could be obtained by demolishing the old -rattle-trap, as the less conservative styled it, and putting up a clean, -commodious, attractive-looking club-house. Guy himself had given out -that his firm was ready to underwrite the bonds necessary to finance all -the proposed changes. Thus it will be seen that at this period social -conditions at Westfield were in a condition of ferment and change, -although the colony was still youthful. Yet differences of opinion were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> -merged on this particular morning in the enjoyment of sport and the -crisp autumn weather. The returning members of the hunt found at the -club-house some of the golf players of both sexes, who had been invited -by the master of the hounds to join them at breakfast, and it was not -long before the company was seated at table.</p> - -<p>Everyone was hungry, and everyone seemed in good spirits. Conversation -flowed spontaneously, or, in other words, everyone seemed to be talking -at once. The host, Kenneth Post, finding himself free for a moment from -all responsibilities save to see that the waiters did their duty, -inasmuch as the woman on either side of him was exchanging voluble -pleasantries with someone else, cast a contented glance around the -mahogany. Personal badinage, as he well knew, was the current coin of -his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> set. The occasion on which it was absent or flagged was regarded as -dull. Subjects, ideas, theories bored his companions—especially the -women—as a social pastime. What they liked was to talk about people, to -gossip of one another's affairs or failings when separated, to discharge -at one another keen but good-humored chaff when they met. Naturally the -host was gratified by the universal chatter, for obviously his friends -were enjoying themselves. Nevertheless there seemed to be something in -the air not to be explained by the exhilaration resulting from the run -or by cocktails before luncheon. As he mused, his eyes fell on Herbert -Maxwell and he wondered. That faithful but solid equestrian was commonly -reticent and rather inert in speech, but now, with face aglow, he was -bandying words with Miss Peggy Blake and another<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> young woman at the -same time. Post remembered that he had seen him take three drinks at the -bar, which for him was an innovation. The Master felt knowing, and -instinctively his eyes sought the countenance of Miss Arnold. It was -demure and furnished no clue to her admirer's mood, unless a faint smile -which suggested momentary content was to be regarded as an indication.</p> - -<p>While Kenneth Post was thus observing his guests he was recalled to more -active duties by Mrs. Andrew Cunningham, who, in her capacity of mother -of the hunt, had been placed at his right hand. Having finished her -soft-shell crab and emptied her quiver of timely shafts upon the young -man at her other elbow, she had turned to her host for a familiar chat -on the topic at that time nearest her heart.</p> - -<p>"I hope you're on our side, Mr. Post<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>—that you are opposed to the new -order of things which would drive every one except millionaires out of -Westfield? Tell me that you intend to vote against pulling down this -dear old sanctuary. It's a rookery, if you like, but that's its charm. -Will anything they build take the place of it in our affections?"</p> - -<p>"We've had lots of good times here, of course, and I'm as fond of the -old place as anyone, but—the fact is, Mrs. Cunningham, I'm in a -difficult position. The younger men count on me in a way; it was they -who chose me master, and in a sense I'm their representative; so——"</p> - -<p>He paused, and allowed the ellipsis to convey an intimation of what he -might be driven to by the rising generation, to which he was more nearly -allied by age than to the older faction.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Cunningham looked up in his face<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> in doughty expostulation. Her -round cheeks reminded him of ruddy but slightly withered crab-apples. -"The time has come for Andrew and me to pull up stakes, I fear. The life -here'll be spoiled. Everything is going up in price—land, servants, -marketing, horses, assessments."</p> - -<p>"That's the case everywhere, isn't it?" Kenneth was an easy-going -fellow, and preferred smiling acquiescence, but when taken squarely to -task he had the courage of his convictions. "The fellows wish more -comforts and facilities. There are next to no bathing accommodations at -present, and everything is cramped, and—and really it's so, if one -looks dispassionately—fusty."</p> - -<p>"I adore the fustiness."</p> - -<p>"Wait until you see the improvements. Mark my words, six months after -they are<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> finished nothing would induce you to return to the old order -of things. We're sure of the money; the loan has been underwritten by a -syndicate."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Cunningham groaned. "Exactly. So has everything in Westfield, to -judge by appearances. The palaces erected by the Douglas Hales, the -Marburys, and Mr. Gordon Wallace have given the death-blow to simple -ways, and we shall soon be in the grip of a plutocracy. The original -band of gentlemen farmers who came here to get close to nature and to -one another are undone, have become back numbers, and"—she lowered her -voice to suit the exigencies—"in case Lydia Arnold accepts Herbert -Maxwell, she will not rest until she has something more imposing and -gorgeous than anything yet."</p> - -<p>Kenneth eagerly took advantage of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> opportunity to divert the -emphasis to that ever-interesting speculation.</p> - -<p>"Have you any light to throw on the burning problem?" he asked.</p> - -<p>The mother of the hunt shook her head. "Mrs. Cole said to me only -yesterday, 'I've tried to make up my mind for her by putting myself in -her place and endeavoring to decide what conclusion I, with her -characteristics, would come to, and I find myself still wobbling, -because she's Lydia, and he's what he is, which would be eminently -desirable for some women, but——'"</p> - -<p>A sudden hush around the table prevented the conclusion of this -philosophic utterance. The sportsman of whom she was speaking had risen -with a brimming glass of champagne in one hand and was accosting the -master of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> hounds. A general thrill of expectancy succeeded the -hush. What was he going to say? Speeches were not altogether unknown at -Westfield hunt breakfasts, but they were not apt to be so impromptu, nor -the contribution of such a negative soul as Herbert Maxwell. Gerald -Marcy, sitting next to Mrs. Cole, was prompted to repeat his observation -of the morning. "I was right," he whispered. "He has seen the Holy -Grail."</p> - -<p>"Wait—just wait," she answered tensely. <i>She</i> knew what was going to -happen, and as her dark eyes vibrated deftly from Herbert's face to -Lydia's and back again, she longed for two pairs that she might not for -an instant lose the expression on either. Meanwhile the host had rapped -on the table and was saying encouragingly:</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p><p>"Our friend Mr. Herbert Maxwell desires to make a few remarks."</p> - -<p>"Hear—hear!" cried Douglas Hale raucously. His fall had obviously -dulled the nicety of his instincts, for everyone else was too curious to -utter a word—too rapt to invade the interesting silence.</p> - -<p>Maxwell had worn the air of a demi-god when he rose. A wave of -self-consciousness doubtless obliterated the introductory phrases which -he had learned by heart, for after a moment's painful silence he -suddenly blurted out:</p> - -<p>"I'm the happiest man in the world, and I want you all to know it."</p> - -<p>Here was the kernel of the whole matter. What better could he have said? -What more was there left to say? The riddle was solved, and the suspense -which had hung over Westfield like a cloud for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> many months was -dissolved in a rainbow of romance. There was no need of names; everybody -understood, and a shout of delight followed. Every woman in the room -shrieked her congratulations to the bride-to-be, and those nearest her -got possession of her person. Miss Peggy Blake was the nearest and hence -the first.</p> - -<p>"You dear thing! It's just splendid; the most intensely exciting thing -which ever happened!" she cried, throwing her arms around Lydia's neck. -In the embrace her hair, which had become loose during the run, fell -about her ears, and Guy Perry had to get down on his knees to find the -gilt hair-pins. There was a babel of superlatives, and delirious -feminine laughter; the men wrung the happy lover's hands or patted him -on the back.</p> - -<p>When the turmoil subsided Maxwell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> was still standing. Like St. Michael -over the prostrate dragon, he had planted his feet securely for once in -his life on the necks of the serpents Diffidence and Repression. He put -out his hand to invite silence.</p> - -<p>"I ask you to drink to the happiness of the loveliest woman in creation. -When a man worships a woman as I do her, and she has done him the honor -to plight him her troth, why shouldn't he bear witness to his love and -blazon her charms and virtues to the stars? God knows I'm going to make -her happy, if I can! To the happiness of my future wife, Miss Lydia -Arnold!"</p> - -<p>"All up!" cried the master, and as the company rose under the spell of -love's fervid invocation, he added authoritatively, "No heel taps!"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p><p>As they drained their glasses and were in the act of sitting down, Guy -Perry conveyed the cordial sentiment of all present toward the proposer -of the toast and lover-elect by beginning to troll,</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>For he's a jolly good fellow—</div> -<div>For he's a jolly good fellow.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>Under cover of the swelling song Mrs. Walter Cole, fluttering in her -seat, and with her eyes fastened on Lydia's countenance, felt the need -of taking Gerald Marcy into her confidence.</p> - -<p>"I just wonder what she thinks of it. His letting himself go like that -is rather nice; but it isn't at all in her style. If she is truly in -love with him, it doesn't matter. But there she sits with that -inscrutable smile, perfectly serene, but not in the least<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> worked up, -apparently. Our embraces didn't even ruffle her hair."</p> - -<p>"He has been repressing himself—been on his good behavior for years, -poor fellow," murmured Marcy.</p> - -<p>"I tell you I like his calling her the loveliest woman in creation and -thinking it. Such guileless fervor is much too rare nowadays. But what -effect will it have on Lydia, who knows she isn't? That is what is -troubling me. Unless she is deeply smitten, won't it bore her?"</p> - -<p>The question was but the echo of her spirit's wonder; she did not expect -a categorical response. Whatever good thing Gerald Marcy was meditating -in reply was nipped in the bud by an appeal to him for "Aunt Dinah's -Quilting Party" as a continuation of the outburst of song. He felt -obliged to comply, and yet was nothing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> loth, as it was one of the most -popular in his repertory, and was adapted to his sweet if somewhat -spavined tenor voice.</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i1">In the skies the bright stars glittered,</div> -<div class="i2">On the bank the pale moon shone,</div> -<div>And 'twas from Aunt Dinah's quilting party</div> -<div class="i2">I was seeing Nellie home.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>So he sang with melodious precision, accompanying his performance with -that slight exaggeration of chivalric manner which distinguished the -rendering of his ditties. The words just suited the sensibilities of the -company, combining feeling with banter, and in full-voiced unison they -caught up the refrain:</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i1">I was seeing Nellie ho-o-me—</div> -<div class="i1">I was seeing Nellie ho-o-me,</div> -<div>And 'twas from Aunt Dinah's quilting party</div> -<div class="i1">I was seeing Nellie home.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p><p>Laughing feminine eyes shot merry glances in the direction of Lydia, -and the red-coated sportsmen lifted their glasses in grandiloquent -apostrophe of the affianced pair. Andrew Cunningham, resplendent in a -canary-colored waistcoat with fine red bars, was heard to remark -confidentially, after ordering another whiskey and soda, that the -festivities which were certain to follow in the wake of this engagement -would add five pounds to his weight, which it had taken him two months -of Spartan abstemiousness to reduce three.</p> - -<p>Erect and sportsmanlike, Gerald continued, after an impressive sweep of -his hand to promote silence:</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i1">On my arm her light hand rested,</div> -<div class="i2">Rested light as o-o-cean's foam,</div> -<div>And 'twas from Aunt Dinah's quilting party</div> -<div class="i2">I was seeing Nellie home.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p><p>It was a red-letter day not only for the master of the hounds but for -Westfield's entire colony. Conjecture was at an end; the love-god had -triumphed; the announcement was a fitting wind-up to the exhilarating -hunting season. Yet amid the general congratulation and optimism some -philosophic souls like Mrs. Walter Cole did not forbear to wonder what -was to be the sequel.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> - -<h2>III</h2> - -<p>Precise consideration by Lydia of her feelings for her betrothed—and -presently her husband, as they were married in the following -January—were rendered superfluous for the time being by the worship -which he lavished upon her. There were so many other things to think of: -first her engagement ring, which called forth ejaculations of envious -admiration from her contemporaries; then her trousseau, the costumes of -her bridesmaids, the details of the ceremony and the wedding breakfast, -and the important question whether the honeymoon was to be spent in -Europe. There was never any doubt as to this in Lydia's mind. After -deliberation she had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> decided on a winter passage by the Mediterranean -route to Nice and Cannes, followed by a summer in the Tyrol and -Switzerland, with a fortnight in Paris to repair the ravages in her -wardrobe made by changing fashion. It must not be understood that -Maxwell demurred to this attractive programme. He merely intimated that -if he remained at home and demonstrated what he called his serious side, -he would probably receive a nomination for the Legislature in the -autumn; that the party managers had predicted as much; and that the -favorable introduction into politics thus obtained might lead to -Congress or a foreign mission, as he had the means to live up to either -position worthily.</p> - -<p>Lydia listened alertly. "I should like you to go as ambassador to Paris -or <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span>London some day, of course, but to serve in the Legislature now -would scarcely conduce to that, Herbert. I've set my heart on going -abroad—I've never been but once, you know—and it's just the time to go -when we are building our two houses. Where should we live if we stayed -at home? The sensible plan is to store our presents, buy some tapestries -and old furniture on the other side, and come back in time to get the -autumn hunting at Westfield and inaugurate our two establishments."</p> - -<p>This settled the matter. The only real uncertainty had been whether she -did not prefer a trip around the world instead. But that would take too -long. She was eager to figure as the mistress of the most stately modern -mansion and the most consummate country house which money and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> -architectural genius could erect. These two houses were perhaps the most -engrossing of all among the many concerns which led her to postpone -precise analysis of her feelings to a period of greater leisure. That is -the exact quality of her love—whether it were eighteen carat or not, to -adopt a simile suggested to her by her wedding-ring. That she loved -Herbert sufficiently well to marry him was the essential point; and it -seemed futile to play hide-and-seek with her own consciousness over the -abstract proposition whether she could have loved someone else better, -especially as there were so many immediately pressing matters to -consider that both her physician and Herbert had warned her she was -liable, if not prudent, to fall a victim to that lurking ailment, -nervous prostration.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p><p>It was certainly no slight responsibility to select the lot in town -which seemed to combine most advantages as the site for a residence. The -matter of the country house was much simpler, for who could doubt that -the ideal location was an expanse of undulating country, higher than the -rest of the neighborhood, known as Norrey's Farm? These fifty acres, -with woods appurtenant, were reputed to be out of the market unless to a -single purchaser. Many a pioneer had picked out Norrey's Knoll as his -choice, only to be thwarted by the owner with the assertion that he must -buy the whole farm or could have none. Later would-be purchasers had -recoiled before the price, which had kept not merely abreast but had -galloped ahead of current valuations, until it had become a by-word in -the colony that Farmer Norrey would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> bite his own nose off if he were -not careful. But the shrewd rustic was more than vindicated by the -upshot. Lydia, from the moment when she first seriously thought of -Herbert Maxwell as a husband, had cast sheeps' eyes at this stately -property, and within a short period after the engagement was announced -the title deeds passed. Rumor declared that the canny grantor had -divined that the opportunity of his life was at hand and had held out -successfully for still higher figures. But, as everybody cheerfully -remarked, ten thousand dollars more or less was but a flea-bite to -Herbert Maxwell.</p> - -<p>Then came the selection of the architects and divers inspections of -plans for the two establishments, which, to the joy of the bridegroom, -were interrupted by the wedding ceremony. They sailed, and their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> -honeymoon was somewhat of a social parade. Special quarters—the most -expensive and exclusive to be had—were engaged for them in advance on -steamships and in railroad trains, in hotels and wherever they appeared. -Maxwell's manifest tender purpose was to gratify his bride's slightest -whim, and in regard to the choice of the objects on which his ready -money was to be lavished he avoided taking the initiative except when an -occasional mania seized him to buy her costly gems on the sly. Otherwise -he danced attendance on her taste, which was discriminating and -perspicuous. Lydia yearned for distinction, not extravagance; for -superlative effects, not garishness. Her eye was on the lookout in -regard to all the affairs of life, from food to the manifestations of -art, for the note which accurately expressed elegant<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> and fastidious -comfort and gave the rebuff to every-day results or the antics of -vulgarity.</p> - -<p>Consequently the wedding trip after the first surprises was but a change -of scene. There were still too many absorptions for retrospective -thought and nice balancing of soul accounts. At Nice and Cannes they -found themselves in a vortex of small gayeties. While travelling, Lydia -was on the alert to pick up old tapestries, porcelain, and other works -of art; in Paris, shopping and the dressmakers left no time for anything -but a daily lesson to put the finishing touch to her French. She had -said to herself that she would draw a trial balance of her precise -emotions when she was at rest on the steamer—for Lydia by instinct was -a methodical person; but a batch of letters reciting complications in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> -regard to the last details on the new houses was a fresh distraction, -and the society of several engaging men on the ship another. -Nevertheless the thought that she was nearing home struck her fancy -favorably, and on the evening before they landed she eluded everybody -else to seize her husband's arm for a promenade on deck. There was -elasticity in her step as she said, "Won't it be fun to be at Westfield -again, Herbert? I long for a good run with the hounds, and I'm beginning -to pine for the autumn colors and smells."</p> - -<p>"Yes, indeed. And we shall be settled at our own fireside at last," he -answered with a lover's animation.</p> - -<p>The remark recalled bothersome considerations to Lydia's mind. She felt -sure from the contents of the last packet of correspondence that the -architect had failed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> to carry out her instructions in several -instances.</p> - -<p>"Settled?" she echoed. "If we are settled a year from now we may -consider ourselves very fortunate."</p> - -<p>Lydia's immediate plans met with interruption from an unexpected source. -Before the hunting season had fairly begun it was privately whispered in -Westfield circles that a stork would presently visit the new -establishment on Norrey's Farm. Open inquiries from tactless -interrogators, why the Maxwells did not follow the hounds, were answered -by the explanation that the young people had so many matters to attend -to in connection with their two houses that they had decided to postpone -hunting to another year. Later it was known that they would pass the -winter in the country, and not furnish the town house<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> until spring. -When the baby was actually born, in February, everyone knew that it was -expected; but the advent of the infant in the flesh caused a flutter -among Lydia's immediate feminine acquaintances. As soon as the mother -was able to receive visitors, Mrs. Walter Cole came down from town to -offer her warm felicitations and incidentally to satisfy the curiosity -of those who took an interest. She had arranged to lunch after the -interview with the Andrew Cunninghams, who lived all the year round at -Westfield, and thither at the close of the visit to her intimate friend -she repaired, replete with information. It happened to be Saturday, and -the master of the house had brought down Gerald Marcy by an early train -for a winter's afternoon tramp across country, so that the two women had -only a few minutes of unreserved conversation.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p><p>"Well, she was just as one would have expected—Lydia all over," Mrs. -Cole began with the intensity of a pent-up stream which has regained its -freedom. "She looked sweet, and everything in her room and in the -nursery was bewitching, as though she had been preparing for the event -for years and doted on it. That's just like her, of course. She bemoaned -her fate at losing the hunting season, and she has decided not to nurse -the baby. As an experienced mother," continued Mrs. Cole -contemplatively, "I felt bound to remind her that there are two sides to -that question, and that I had nursed Toto and Jim not only because -Walter insisted on it, but to give the children the benefit of the doubt -as to any possible effect on character from being suckled by a stranger. -But she had thought it all out, and had her arguments<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> at her fingers' -ends. She declared it a case of Anglo-Saxon prejudice, and that every -Frenchwoman of position sends her babies to a foster-mother. Of course -it <i>is</i> a bother, and frightfully confining, but my husband wouldn't -hear of it, though half the mamas can't satisfy their babies anyway."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Cunningham nodded understandingly. "I daresay it's just as well. -And of course she regards the rest of us as old-fashioned. But tell me -about the baby."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Cole laughed. "You ought to have heard Lydia on the subject. She -talks of it in the most impersonal way, as though it belonged to someone -else or were a wedding present. I never cared much for babies before I -was married, but could not endure anyone who wouldn't make flattering -speeches about mine. Lydia's is a dear little thing as they go,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> and has -a fascinating wardrobe already, and I think she is rather devoted to it -in her secret soul, but one of the first things she said to me—before I -could get in a single compliment—was, 'She's the living image of -Grandma Maxwell, Fannie. She has her mouth and nose.' And the -embarrassing part was that it's true. The moment Lydia called my -attention to it I saw. Her eagle maternal eye had detected what the -ordinary mother would have failed to perceive. But it's Grandma Maxwell -to the life. 'Why evade the truth?' remarked Lydia after one of her -deliberate pauses. 'I shall name her for her, and I can discern in -advance that she will never be a social success.'"</p> - -<p>"Poor little thing!" murmured Mrs. Cunningham. Such an anathema so early -in life was certainly heart-rending.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p><p>Mrs. Cole put her head on one side like an arch bird by way of -reflective protest. "It sounds dreadful, of course, but remember she's -Lydia. What she will really do will be to metamorphose her, body and -soul, so that by the time she is eighteen there will not be one trace of -Maxwell visible to the naked eye. See if I'm not right," she said with -the gusto of a brilliant inspiration which seemed to her a logical -defence of her friend.</p> - -<p>The arrival of the men interrupted the dialogue, but the general topic -was presently resumed from another point of view. Not many minutes had -elapsed after they sat down to luncheon before Gerald Marcy hazarded the -observation that, prophecies and innuendoes to the contrary -notwithstanding, events in the Maxwell household appeared to have -followed the course of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> nature. Mrs. Cole, to whom this remark was -directly addressed, ignored the sly impeachment of her abilities as a -seer, and, having finished her piece of buttered toast, said blandly:</p> - -<p>"I think Lydia is very happy."</p> - -<p>"I felt sure she would be tamed," continued Marcy with a tug at his -mustache. "I look to see her become a model of the domestic virtues."</p> - -<p>"Don't be too sure that she is tamed, Gerald," said Mrs. Cunningham. -"Lydia is Lydia." Perhaps the knowledge that she had been longing in -vain for years for a child of her own gave the cue to this slightly -brusk comment.</p> - -<p>"Lydia will never be exactly like the rest of us; that's her -peculiarity—virtue—what shall I call it?" interposed Mrs. Cole, -looking round the table with a philosophic air.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> "The rest of us demur -at conventions, but accept them in the end. She follows what she deems -the truth. I don't say that she is always right or that she doesn't do -queer things," she added by way of conservative qualification of her -bubbling encomium.</p> - -<p>"And how about Maxwell?" asked Andrew Cunningham, who had seemed -temporarily lost in the contemplation of his lobster salad so long as -any of that lusciously prepared viand remained on his plate. "Infatuated -as ever, I suppose," he added, sitting back in his chair and exposing -benignly his broad expanse of neckcloth and fancy check waistcoat.</p> - -<p>"Yes, and he ought to be, surely. But Lydia has a rival in the daughter -of the house," answered Mrs. Cole, reinspired by the inquiry. "He came -in just as I was leaving, and is almost daft on the subject<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> of the -baby. If Lydia's ecstasy is somewhat below the normal, he more than -makes up for the deficiency. There never was such a proud parent. He -just 'chortled in his joy.' He discerns in her already all the graces -and virtues, and would like to do something at once—he doesn't know -exactly what—to bring them to the attention of an unappreciative world. -If it were a boy, he could put his name down on the waiting lists at the -clubs, but as she is only a girl, he must content himself with hanging -over her crib for the present."</p> - -<p>"Only a girl!" echoed Marcy. "Born with a golden spoon in her mouth, an -heiress to all the virtues and graces, and predestined doubtless, like -her mother, to rest her dainty foot upon the neck of man. Nevertheless, -as I have already prophesied, I am inclined to think that the yoke<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span>—now -a double yoke—will not bear too severely on Maxwell, though it may not -yield him the bliss which we unregenerate bachelors are wont to -associate with the ideal marital relation."</p> - -<p>"Hear—hear!" exclaimed Andrew Cunningham. "You need some further liquid -refreshment after that silver-tongued sophistry, Gerald.—Mary," he said -to the maid, "pass the whiskey and soda to Mr. Marcy."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Cole put her head on one side. "I have my doubts whether the ideal -marital relation is a modern social possibility—the strictly ideal such -as you bachelors mean," she added, feeling, doubtless, as the wife of a -man to whom she had described herself in heart-to-heart talks with other -women—not many, for she eschewed the subject ordinarily as sacred—as -deeply attached,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> that this homily on wedlock needed a qualifying tag.</p> - -<p>But May Cunningham was not in the mood to become a party to even so -tempered an imputation on connubial happiness. "Speak for yourself, -Fannie," she said sturdily. "Ideals or no ideals, Andrew and I trot in -double harness better than any single animal of my acquaintance."</p> - -<p>"Listen to the old woman, God bless her!" exclaimed the master of the -house, raising his tumbler and smiling at his better-half with -chivalrous expansiveness.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Cole was a little nettled at Mrs. Cunningham's obtuseness—wilful -obtuseness, it seemed to her. As though the subtle social problem -suggested by her was to be solved by a reference to the homely affection -of this amiable but limited couple! She sighed and murmured,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> "Everyone -knows, my dear, that you and Andrew are as happy as the day is long. But -I'm afraid that you don't understand exactly what I meant."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Cunningham compressed her lips ominously. She felt that she -understood perfectly well, and that it was simply another case of Fannie -Cole's nonsense. But any retort she may have been meditating was averted -by the timely and genial inspiration of her husband.</p> - -<p>"One thing is certain," he said: "we all know that our Gerald is the -ideal bachelor."</p> - -<p>This assertion called forth cordial acquiescence from both the ladies, -and turned the current of the conversation into a smoother channel. The -subject of the remark bowed decorously.</p> - -<p>"In this company I am free to admit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> that I sometimes sigh in secret for -a happy home. Yet even venerable bachelorhood has its compensations. By -the way," he added, "our colony at Westfield is likely to have an -addition to its stud of bachelors. I hear that Harry Spencer is coming -home."</p> - -<p>"Harry Spencer? How interesting," cried the two women in the same -breath.</p> - -<p>"The fascinator," continued Mrs. Cole with slow, sardonic articulation.</p> - -<p>"To break some other woman's heart, I suppose," said Mrs. Cunningham.</p> - -<p>"And yet it is safe to say that he will be received with open arms by -your entire sex, including the present company," remarked Gerald with a -tug at his mustache.</p> - -<p>The sally was received with pensive silence as a deduction apparently -not to be gainsaid.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p><p>"He is very agreeable," said Mrs. Cunningham flatly.</p> - -<p>"And extremely handsome," said Mrs. Cole. "Not the type of manly beauty -which would cause my mature heart to flutter, but dangerous to the -youthful imagination. He used to look like a handsome pirate, and if he -had whispered honeyed words to me instead of to Laura—who knows?"</p> - -<p>"Poor Laura!"</p> - -<p>"They had neither of them a cent; there was nothing for him to do but -withdraw. And yet there is no doubt he broke her heart, though there is -consumption in her family." Mrs. Cole knit her brows over this attempt -on her part to formulate complete justice.</p> - -<p>"He's a woman's man," said Andrew Cunningham. He had stepped to the -mantel-piece to fill his pipe, and having uttered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> this fell speech, he -lit it and smoked for some moments in silence with his back to the -cheerful wood fire before proceeding. No one had seen fit to contradict -him. The gaps between his assertions and the subsequent explanations -thereof were expected and rarely interrupted. "He does everything -well—rides, shoots, plays rackets, golf, cards—is infernally -good-looking, as you say, has a pat speech and a flattering eye for -every woman he looks at, and yet somehow he has always struck me as a -<i>poseur</i>. I wouldn't trust him in a tight place, though he prides -himself on his sporting blood. It may be prejudice on my part. Gerald -likes him, I believe, because he is a keen rider and always has a good -mount. He always has the best of everything going, but what does he live -on anyway?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span></p><p>"Wild oats, perhaps," suggested Marcy. But he hastened to atone for -this levity by adding, "He had a little money from his mother, while it -lasted, and just after he and Miss Wilford drifted apart, I am told that -he followed a tip from Guy Perry on copper stocks and cleaned up enough -to enable him to travel round the world."</p> - -<p>"Poor Laura!" interjected Mrs. Cole. "What a pity he didn't get a tip -earlier!"</p> - -<p>"It wasn't enough to marry on," said Marcy, "and it's probably mostly -gone by this time."</p> - -<p>"That's the sort of thing I complain of," exclaimed Cunningham. "I'm no -martinet in morals, Heaven knows, but I always feel a little on my guard -with fellows who live by their wits and spend like princes. Confound it, -you know it isn't quite respectable even in a free country."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> Andrew -spoke with a wag of his head as though he expected to be adjudged an old -fogy for this conservative utterance.</p> - -<p>"He's an attractive fellow on the surface anyway," answered Marcy after -a pause, "and will be an addition from the hunting standpoint. And—give -the devil his due, Andrew—if he was looking for money only, there were -several heiresses he might have married. That would have made him -irreproachable at once."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Cole drew a long breath. "Perfectly true, Mr. Marcy. I never -thought of it before. Harry Spencer doesn't look at a woman twice unless -he admires her, no matter how rich she is. He could have married -several, of course, if he had tried."</p> - -<p>"Dozens. That's the humiliating part of it," assented Mrs. Cunningham.</p> - -<p>"When he is ready to settle down that's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> what he'll do—pick out some -woman with barrels of money," said Andrew. Having once got a proposition -in his head he was wont to stick to it tenaciously, like a puppy to a -root.</p> - -<p>"You misjudge him—you misjudge him!" cried Mrs. Cole eagerly. "He won't -do anything of the kind. He will never marry any woman unless she has -money—or he has; that I'm ready to admit. But, on the other hand, he'll -never ask anyone to marry him unless he loves her for herself alone, -and—and," she continued with a gasp born of the thrill which the -definiteness of her insight caused her, "there are very few women in the -world whom he is liable to fall in love with. That's what makes him so -interesting. He is polite to us all, but the majority of women bore him -at heart."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p><p>Marcy laughed. "A masterly diagnosis," he said. "And now that he has -seen the world and is returning heart-free, so far as we know, there -will naturally be curiosity as to how he will bear the ordeal of a fresh -contact with native loveliness."</p> - -<p>"Exactly," said the two women together, and with an engaging frankness -which quite overshadowed the grunt by which the master of the house -indicated his suspicious dissent from this exposition of character.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p> - -<h2>IV</h2> - -<p>Harry Spencer had been travelling nearly three years. Naturally, he -found some changes and some new faces at Westfield. Concerning the -former he was becomingly appreciative. He promptly ranged himself on the -side of progress, admired the new club-house and the new establishments -in the neighborhood, and evinced a willingness to take an active part in -the enlarged energies of the club. During his peregrinations in foreign -lands he had visited the St. Andrew's golf links, and he had views -regarding bunkers and other features of the game which he was prepared -to advocate. When he had left home the bicycle was all the rage, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> -some portion of his journeyings had been on an up-to-date machine. But -he found now that the fashionable portion of the community had dropped -this craze, and that to ride a "wheel" was beginning to be considered a -bore except as a means of getting from one place to another. The fever -of golf was rampant instead, and had reached the stage where its -votaries were almost delirious in their devotion, notably the people -most unfitted to play the game, and who had taken it up in order to be -in fashion. During the spring and summer following his return the -improved links at Westfield was crowded with players of every grade -whose proficiency was generally in reverse proportion to the number of -clubs they carried.</p> - -<p>Soon after the season had fairly opened and the greens were in good -order the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> lately returned wanderer found himself one morning engaged in -giving a lesson in the royal and ancient game to Miss Peggy Blake, who -had a severe attack of the disease and promised to be a proficient -pupil, for Dobson, the professional at the Hunt Club, had declared that -she had a free swing and could follow through as well as most men. The -trouble at the moment was that, after taking a free swing, she either -failed to hit the ball altogether or hit it off at some distressing -angle. As she explained volubly to everybody, until within a week she -had been making screaming brassie shots which carried a hundred and -fifty yards, but had suddenly lost her game completely. Harry had kindly -offered himself as a coach, a delightful proposition to the blithe young -woman, especially as Dobson was engaged<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> for the time being in -superintending the primary and elephantine efforts of Miss Ella Marbury, -the stout maiden sister of Wagner Marbury, the Western -multi-millionnaire and proprietor of one of the new neighboring palaces -so obnoxious to Mrs. Cunningham. Miss Peggy was more than pleased to -have for an hour or two the uninterrupted companionship of this -good-looking and redoubtable gallant, whose attentions were to be -regarded as a feather in her cap, and who would doubtless be able to -tell her what she was doing wrong.</p> - -<p>Hers was one of the new faces, and Harry had given his following to -understand that he admired her spirited and comely personality. "Miss -West Wind" he had christened her genially, and the epithet had spread -with the rumor that he had noticed her. Yet it was tacitly <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span>understood -that he had no intention of interfering with the suit of his friend Guy -Perry, who was supposed to be well in the lead of the other pursuers of -the breezy maiden. Yet, though he sought to give the impression that his -favor in this case was merely an artistic tribute and that he still -walked scatheless in the world of women, he was glad of an opportunity -to stroll over the links in her society. She would entertain him. -Besides, she was a fluent talker, and he could count on her retailing -for his edification more or less of the current history of Westfield -written between the lines, which was only to be picked up gradually by -one who had been prevented by absence from personal observation.</p> - -<p>It was a very simple matter to detect the trouble with his companion's -stroke.</p> - -<p>"You don't keep your eye on the ball,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> Miss Blake. That's the whole -trouble with you. Anyone can see that."</p> - -<p>Peggy looked incredulous. "If there is one special thing more than -another which I try to bear constantly in mind, it is to keep my eye on -the ball. Do I really take it off, Mr. Spencer? Of course you must know. -There are so many other things to remember, but I did think I was -completely disciplined on that point. Watch me now."</p> - -<p>Thereupon she proceeded to execute a dashing stroke, her evident -standard being to carry her club through with such velocity as to bring -the head round her left shoulder and cause her to execute a pirouette -like the pictures of the golfing girls in the magazines. The ball flew -off at a tangent and narrowly missed her own caddy.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p><p>"How rotten!" she murmured. "I had both my eyes glued on the ball, and -you see what happened. And only a week ago I was driving like a streak." -Her expletive was merely the popular phrase of the day by which golden -youth of both sexes was apt to express even trivial dissatisfaction.</p> - -<p>She was a pathetic figure of distress. Her exertions had heightened her -color so that it suggested the poppy rather than the rose, and was not -unlike the hue of her trig golfing garment. She swept back a stray -ringlet which had escaped from under her hat. "You see I have lost my -game utterly, Mr. Spencer."</p> - -<p>Harry laughed. "You were looking at me out of the corners of your eyes -that time. Lower your lids until you exaggerate the modest maiden and -don't move<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> your head." It was a half-deferential, half-sardonic voice -with a caressing touch, indicating temporary devotion to the -subject-matter in hand which was flattering. "Swing more easily," he -added, "and don't try to rival the Gibson girl until you recover -confidence." Then he corrected slightly her stance and the position of -her hands—all with a deft yet bantering grace of manner which soothed -and attracted her. He went through the correct motions of the stroke for -her enlightenment, and as he stood erect and supple Peggy did not -forbear to reflect that he was very handsome. How dark his hair and eyes -were! It was a bold sort of beauty, and, though he wore neither mustache -nor beard, the faintly bluish tinge of his complexion betrayed that, but -for the barber, he would have been what Mrs.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> Herbert Cole might have -termed an incarnate symphony in black. He appeared harmoniously -muscular. He executed the necessary movements with lithe, nervous -energy, focusing his attention tensely for the brief occasion. The -moment he lowered his club he regained his leisurely and rather indolent -demeanor.</p> - -<p>His pupil essayed to follow his instructions. At the third attempt the -ball sailed straight as an arrow to a moderate distance, which comforted -the performer, but she felt too nervously excited to exult. It might be -only an accident.</p> - -<p>"Try again," he said confidentially. "You've almost got it."</p> - -<p>Once more the ball shot correctly from the club. Harry stooped and -placed another on the tee. Peggy swung, then followed through with a -little of her old<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> elasticity. It flew like a rifle bullet low and long -across the distant bunker.</p> - -<p>She rose on the tips of her toes as she followed its entrancing flight. -"I've got back my game," she cried jubilantly. "You've saved my life, -Mr. Spencer." She looked as though she would have been glad, had -convention permitted, to throw her arms around her benefactor's neck. -And to the true golfer it would not seem an exaggerated reward. "I've -been in the slough of despond for nearly a week, and playing worse every -day. Now I'm in the seventh heaven, and it's all your doing."</p> - -<p>He acknowledged the exuberant gratitude with a graceful mock heroic bow. -"I shall consider my terms. The charge should be considerable."</p> - -<p>Just then by the sheerest chance a white carnation which Peggy was -wearing at her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> throat became detached from her dress and fell to the -ground. He picked it up, and, holding it before him and looking into her -eyes, said with melodious assurance:</p> - -<p>"I will keep this, if I may, as my tuition fee."</p> - -<p>Peggy looked embarrassed and let fall her eyes, albeit not easily -disconcerted. The carnation was one from a bunch which Guy Perry had -sent her the day before, and to hand it over seemed almost an act of -treason, though they were not yet actually engaged. Yet she was -conscious that she thought this new acquaintance charming. Silence gives -consent where lovely woman is concerned. At any rate, when she looked up -he was in the act of placing it in his buttonhole. But his fingers had -paused in their work as a consequence of his arrested glance. A feminine -figure <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span>outlined on the crest of adjacent rising ground had suddenly -caught his eye. She was addressing her ball for a brassie shot, and as -he gazed it was performed with a sweeping grace of which the lack of -effort was the salient charm.</p> - -<p>Peggy, whose eyes had promptly followed the direction of his, vouchsafed -the desired information.</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Herbert Maxwell."</p> - -<p>"Really!" There was a shade of interest in the monosyllable, as though -the identity of some one whom he had been rather curious to meet had -been revealed to him.</p> - -<p>"You haven't met her?"</p> - -<p>"Not yet."</p> - -<p>"Oh, you'd like her immensely."</p> - -<p>The words were uttered with such naive confidence that Harry Spencer -turned away<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> his gaze from the new attraction to survey the old.</p> - -<p>"How do you know?" he inquired jauntily.</p> - -<p>Peggy spluttered a little at this flank attack. "Oh, well, you know, -she's so awfully clever. She's different. She'd pique your curiosity -anyway," she concluded, recovering her aplomb.</p> - -<p>"Am I so difficult to please?" he asked sententiously. He answered the -question himself. "Yes, I admit that I am." His look of admiration, -which Peggy divined was constitutional with him on such occasions, was -best to be met by diversion.</p> - -<p>"I shall never be able to play golf as Lydia Maxwell does, and I've been -at it twice as long. She has only played this spring, and Dobson says -that she has a better idea of the game than any other<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> woman. It's just -knack with her, for her balls go farther than mine and yet she makes -scarcely an exertion. You couldn't help admire her in all sorts of ways. -It has been a dreadfully quiet season for her, though, for when her baby -was six weeks old and she had sent out cards for two musical parties in -their new town house, her husband's mother, old Mrs. Maxwell, died -suddenly, and she had to go into mourning. So they went to Southern -California for February and March, and moved down here as soon as they -returned. She took lessons in golf at Los Angeles, and she beat me four -up the first time we played, even though I supposed I could give her -half a stroke."</p> - -<p>While he listened to this monologue, Spencer followed the progress of -the subject of it. She was playing with pretty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> Mrs. Baxter, but, though -her opponent was an ordinarily graceful woman, there was a deft harmony -in her movements which made Mrs. Baxter appear an unfinished person by -comparison.</p> - -<p>"They say the real secret is that she has an artistic temperament." The -speech was Peggy's by way of reading his thoughts and providing a -condensed and comprehensive key.</p> - -<p>"And her husband—what is he like? You know he has come to the surface -during my absence."</p> - -<p>"He hasn't it at all—I mean an artistic temperament. But he's an -awfully good sort—awfully; a true sport, and kind as can be." Peggy's -vocabulary of enthusiasm, though fundamentally native, sometimes made -reprisals on the kindred jargon of Great Britain.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p><p>"I see. And you infer that I have an artistic temperament?" A tendency -toward challenging unexpectedness was one of Spencer's prime -manifestations with women.</p> - -<p>Peggy looked embarrassed. She had not bargained for such an unequivocal -piece of teasing. She put up her hand to her head to secure her escaping -comb. "I don't know you very well, of course, but I had supposed so. Yet -I'm not clever, and I dote on Lydia," she added archly.</p> - -<p>Harry Spencer did not have to go out of his way for an opportunity to -satisfy his curiosity by personal acquaintance with Mrs. Herbert -Maxwell. When he and his fair partner had finished the last hole and -approached the piazza of the new club-house, they found her sitting -there—one of a group of both sexes waiting for luncheon.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> Peggy, -radiant and prodigal of superlatives, proclaimed to one after another -that her game had come back. Wasn't it perfectly glorious?—the -loveliest thing which had ever happened. And Mr. Spencer had detected at -once what was wrong. "Just think of it, I was pressing and took my eye -off the ball," she kept reiterating, "and I never knew it. Wasn't it -dear of him?"</p> - -<p>One of the most characteristic features of golf is that it is not an -altruistic pastime. Everyone is feverishly absorbed by the state of his -own game, and does not care at heart a picayune for his neighbor's. At -the moment of Peggy's vociferous advent the assembled company were -talking in pairs, and each member of each pair was endeavoring to excite -the interest of his or her partner in the dialogue by glowing or -dejected narration of why his or her score<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> was lower or higher than the -speaker's average. In some cases both were talking at once and neither -listened. Oftener, perhaps, each had asserted an innings, and the -strongest or most persistent lungs held the mastery. Miss Marbury, who -under the tutelage of Dobson had done the longest hole in 12 and the -eighteen holes in 132—five better than ever before—was bubbling over -with ecstasy and soliciting congratulations. Douglas Hale, who had -failed by one stroke to surpass his previous record of 82, was telling -hoarsely and pathetically to everyone whom he could buttonhole how it -happened.</p> - -<p>"At the fourteenth hole I was on the green in two and took seven for the -hole. Seven! Just think of that, seven! Five strokes on the green." As -he uttered the words with excruciating precision, he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> would hold up the -five fingers of his hand and shake them at his auditor. It was an -experience which would last him all day and as far into the evening as -he could find new listeners, especially if he could endeavor to take the -edge off his disappointment by Scotch and soda.</p> - -<p>Consequently, though everybody heard that Miss Peggy Blake had recovered -her game, and her breezy invasion caused a stir, the fact that she had -done so was of interest only because of the means by which this had been -brought to pass. It was Harry Spencer, not she, who became the cynosure -of numerous feminine eyes. If he had put Peggy onto her game, why not -them onto theirs? Peggy, mistaking the reason for the pause in the -general chatter for interest in her improvement, proceeded to rehearse -gleefully the details<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> of her triumph for the benefit of the company. -But Douglas Hale, in no mood to be side-tracked by any such -interruption, stepped forward, and hooking his arm in Harry Spencer's, -led him apart with a mysterious "A word with you, old man."</p> - -<p>Having thus enforced an audience, he held forth in the low tone -appropriate to an interesting confidence. "Just now I was 58 at the end -of the thirteenth hole, and was on the green of the fourteenth in two, -and I took seven for the hole. Five puts on the green! Think of that, -five!" he whispered hoarsely, and shook his five fingers in Harry's -face. "Seven for the hole. And I finished in 82. Tied my own record. -Wasn't that the meanest streak of luck a man ever had? Five puts, and -two of them rimmed the cup."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p><p>His victim listened indulgently. The firm grip on his arm precluded -escape.</p> - -<p>"You must learn to put, my dear fellow."</p> - -<p>"That's the most sickening part of it. I made every other put. Let me -tell you—you remember the slope of the fourteenth green? Well, I——"</p> - -<p>Realizing what he was in for, Harry took advantage of a momentary pause -on the part of his torturer for the purpose of lighting a cigarette. His -observing eyes had noticed that Mrs. Maxwell was standing apart from the -other women who were within range of Miss Blake's jubilant reiteration. -He wrenched himself free from Douglas's clutch.</p> - -<p>"It was a case of downright hard luck, and now, in return for my -heart-felt sympathy and for listening to your tale of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> woe, introduce me -to Mrs. Herbert Maxwell."</p> - -<p>Puffing at his half-lighted cigarette, Douglas Hale reached out to -recover his lost grip. "Wait a minute. You haven't heard half. I will -show you just how it happened."</p> - -<p>Spencer intercepted the reaching fingers and grabbed the offender's -wrist, and said, with jocund firmness, "I don't care a tinker's dam how -it happened, Douglas, and I tell you you can't put. Introduce me to Mrs. -Maxwell."</p> - -<p>This quip caused the egotist to draw himself up stiffly. He was proof -against hints and ordinary recalcitration, but such an unmistakable -rebuff was not to be ignored; that is, he could not with proper -self-respect continue the harangue on which he was bent.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p><p>"Of course if you don't care to hear how it happened, I won't tell -you." So saying, Douglas suffered himself to be conveyed the necessary -few steps, and performed the ceremony of introduction.</p> - -<p>Lydia let her eyes rest with keen but interested scrutiny on this -new-comer. He was a boon at the moment, for she had taken the gauge of -everybody at Westfield, and was conscious that neither her heart nor her -brain was satisfied. She craved novelty and true aesthetic appreciation. -Did anyone really understand her? Not even Fannie Cole, who came the -nearest to divining her hatred of the commonplace and her dread of being -bored. But Fannie, though discerning, chose to remain a slave to the -canons of conformity. That morning, in her looking-glass she had asked -herself the question, "Why did I ever marry<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> Herbert Maxwell?" But she -had asked it with no malice aforethought, merely as one who, with -leisure to take account of stock, foots up his assets and puts the -question, "Am I solvent?" The interrogation was simply searching and -contemplative. The answer had been prompt, and in a measure assuring. -"Because it gave me everything I need." Yet, somehow, there remained a -cloud upon her spirit. Was this all? Did life offer nothing further?</p> - -<p>"We make a fuss and circumstance about our sports," she said.</p> - -<p>"They do creak."</p> - -<p>It was agreeable to be comprehended so promptly. "It isn't sport for -sport's sake, but for the sake of the cups and because it's the thing."</p> - -<p>"And above all to beat the other fellow. That's the national creed. It's -so in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> everything—competition. We are brought up from childhood to -consider that winning is the thing which counts. We must win at any cost -at foot-ball or trade, in affairs or in love."</p> - -<p>She made one of her little pauses. Decidedly he was a kindred spirit and -to be cultivated. "I am an exotic then."</p> - -<p>"How so?"</p> - -<p>"Competition—the national creed—does not interest me."</p> - -<p>"Because you win so easily. I watched you play this morning. You will -have no rival of your own sex here."</p> - -<p>She ignored the tribute; she knew that already; it was the thesis which -interested her.</p> - -<p>"It bores me—winning, I mean. Golf, for the time being, is a delight."</p> - -<p>He gave her a pirate glance, as though<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> to search her soul, and uttered -one of his bold sallies:</p> - -<p>"That is, your doll is stuffed with——"</p> - -<p>She checked him, shaking her head. "Oh, no. That is, I think not. I have -never cut her open. I had in mind something quite different." Her dainty -face grew pensive as she sought the exact phrase to interpret her -psychology. "I have never had to struggle for anything. It has always -come to me."</p> - -<p>"Exactly." His note of emphasis reminded her that her words were, after -all, merely an indirect echo of his diagnosis. "But your time is sure to -come," he asserted confidently.</p> - -<p>The smile of incredulity which curved her lips betrayed entertainment -also. "In what field?" she inquired.</p> - -<p>Spencer shrugged his shoulders. "I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> am a student of character, not a -soothsayer."</p> - -<p>"And then?" she queried.</p> - -<p>"You will be like the rest of us—only more so. You could not bear to -lose at any cost."</p> - -<p>What might have seemed effrontery in some men was but a piquant -challenge in his mouth, so speciously was it uttered. Lydia was not -unaccustomed to men whose current coin was sardonic sallies, as witness -the veteran Gerald Marcy. But this was something different. Her soul had -been suddenly pitchforked by a professor of anatomy and held up under -her nose with the caveat that she was ignorant of the mainsprings of her -own behavior. It was impudence, but novel, and she forgave it with the -reflection that he would live to eat his gratuitous deductions, which -would be the neatest form of vengeance.</p> - -<div class="center"><a name="i115.jpg" id="i115.jpg"></a><img src="images/i115.jpg" alt="The smile of incredulity which curved her lips betrayed -entertainment also" /></div> - -<p class="bold">The smile of incredulity which curved her lips betrayed -entertainment also.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p> - -<h2>V</h2> - -<p>Before many weeks had elapsed it began to be whispered at Westfield that -Harry Spencer and Mrs. Herbert Maxwell were seeing more or less of each -other. They appeared together not infrequently on the golf links; it was -known that he was giving her lessons at her own house in bridge whist, -the new game of cards; they had been met walking in the lanes; and—most -significant item, which caused the colony to prick up its ears and ask, -"What does this mean?"—two youthful anglers had encountered them -strolling in the lonely woods skirting distant Duck Pond. This last -discovery, which was early in September, led to the conclusion that, -under cover of her mourning, Lydia must have been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> seeing more of him -than anyone had imagined. Yet, even then, though alert brains indulged -in knowing innuendoes, Mrs. Cole's epigrammatic estimate of the matter -was generally accepted as sound:</p> - -<p>"A woman in mourning for her mother-in-law requires diversion."</p> - -<p>It seemed probable that Lydia was amusing herself, and that Harry -Spencer was playing the tame cat for their mutual edification. The -possibility that he had been caught at last and that she was luring him -on that she might lead him like a bear with a ring through his nose, and -thus avenge her sex for his past indifference, was regarded as unlikely -but delightful. That Lydia was enamored of her admirer, and that they -both cared, was not seriously entertained until many circumstances -seemed to point to such a deduction.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> Westfield was not wholly without -experience in intimacies between husbands or wives and a third party. -But only rarely had there been fire as well as smoke in these cases. And -even then there had never been up to this time an open scandal. Matters -had been patched up or the veil of diplomatic convention had been drawn -so skilfully over them that most people were left in the dark as to the -real truth. Almost invariably the intimacies in question reminded one of -the antics of horses with too high action who had all the show but -little of the quality of runaways; and the preferences manifested were -not always inconsistent with conjugal devotion. Consequently, everyone -took for granted that this was only another "fake" instance of family -disarrangement, entered on to pass the time and to provide that -<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span>appearance of evil which the American woman seems to find a satisfying -substitute for the real article. As Mrs. Cole once remarked in defending -the propensity to Gerald Marcy, if one's vanity is flattered, why should -one go farther?</p> - -<p>The buzz of curiosity was stimulated during the ensuing autumn by a -variety of fresh and compromising rumors. Consequently, when at a -golfing luncheon party given at the club by Mrs. Gordon Wallace in -October, Mrs. Baxter, whose blue eyes always suggested innocence, asked -in her demure way what the latest news was from "The Knoll," every -tongue had something new to impart. The most sensational as well as the -latest piece of information was provided by Mrs. Cunningham, who -repeated it with the air of one whose faith had at last received a -serious shock.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p><p>"She sat with him on the piazza at 'The Knoll' until three o'clock -night before last. Her husband came home at eleven and requested her to -go to bed, but there they stayed without him. I call that pretty bad, -even if she is Lydia. I wonder how long Herbert Maxwell will permit this -sort of thing to go on. Even the worm will turn."</p> - -<p>There was an eloquent silence, which was broken by a repetition of Mrs. -Cole's whitewashing epigram as to Lydia's need of diversion. Its -cleverness and value as a generalization caused a ripple of amusement, -but it fell flat as a specific. Old Mrs. Maxwell had been dead many -months, yet matters were more disconcerting than ever. Stout Miss -Marbury's question was regarded as much more to the point:</p> - -<p>"Who saw them, Mrs. Cunningham?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p><p>May Cunningham would have preferred to remain silent on this score, but -she perceived that the authenticity of her story was dependent on direct -testimony. It was a luncheon of eight. She glanced around the table in -an appealing manner as much as to say, "This really is not to be spoken -of," and said laconically, "There was another couple present." Then, as -though she feared on second thought that the wrong persons might be -fixed on, she continued: "Neither of them were married. They are -supposed to be engaged, and Lydia acted as their chaperone on the piazza -while they took a moonlight ride together."</p> - -<p>"Who can they have been?" murmured some one sweetly, and there was a -general giggle.</p> - -<p>"You wormed it out of me," said Mrs. Cunningham doggedly. "You demanded<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> -my credentials. But it doesn't matter about those two, of course, for -they're in love."</p> - -<p>"How about the others?" ventured Mrs. Baxter.</p> - -<p>"Truly, Rachel, you shock me," answered Mrs. Cunningham sternly. "It's -no joking matter. It's a very serious situation for this colony, in my -opinion. People who don't know us do not think any too well of us -already because some of us smoke cigarettes and go in for hunting and an -open-air life instead of trying to reform somebody. But this will give -the gossips a real handle. Besides, it's disreputable."</p> - -<p>"But I really wished to know," murmured Mrs. Baxter. "Does either of -them care? And if so, which?"</p> - -<p>"My own belief," interjected Mrs. Cole, "as I said just now, is that -there's nothing in it—nothing serious. Lydia is simply<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> catering to her -æsthetic side, and everyone knows Harry Spencer. It seems to me -personally that she has gone too far, but that is a question of taste, -and, provided her husband doesn't complain, why need we?" Thereupon she -popped into her mouth a luscious-looking coffee cream confection and -munched it ruminantly.</p> - -<p>"It has become a question of morals," asserted Mrs. Cunningham. "If -their relations are what we don't believe them to be, it's a disgrace to -Westfield. If they are simply amusing themselves, it's heartless, and I -know what I would do if I were Herbert Maxwell."</p> - -<p>"So do I," exclaimed Mrs. Reynolds, a spirited young matron with the -breath of life in her nostrils, yet, as someone once remarked of her, -notoriously devoted to her lord and master.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span></p><p>"Just what my husband said," added Mrs. Miller, a bride of a year's -standing, which, considering nothing whatever had been said, provoked a -smile and brought a blush to the countenance of the speaker, which -deepened as Mrs. Baxter with her accustomed innocence asked:</p> - -<p>"What would you do?"</p> - -<p>"Pick out the most seductive-looking woman I could set my eyes on, -Rachel dear, and"—blurted out Mrs. Reynolds pungently. As she paused an -instant seeking her phrase, Mrs. Cunningham interjected:</p> - -<p>"Sh! We understand. That might bring her to her senses."</p> - -<p>"But Herbert Maxwell never would," said Mrs. Cole, reaching for another -sweetmeat.</p> - -<p>"I'm not so sure about that," retorted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> Mrs. Cunningham. "He's faithful -as a mastiff, but goad him too far and he may prove to be a slumbering -lion, in my opinion."</p> - -<p>"That wouldn't suit Lydia at all," responded Mrs. Cole. The thesis -interested her. "She takes for granted, I presume, his unswerving -fidelity. Besides, he would consider it morally wrong. I shall be very -much surprised, my dear, if you are not mistaken."</p> - -<p>"I'm not a married woman," suggested Miss Marbury, "but I think he ought -to put a stop in some way or other to the present condition of things, -and that it is his fault if he doesn't."</p> - -<p>A murmur of acquiescence showed that this was the general sentiment, at -which point the discussion of the topic was brought to a close by the -hostess's rising<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> from the table—that is, discussion by the party as a -whole. After they had repaired to the general sitting-room—that neutral -apartment in the club which was appropriated to the use of both -sexes—the subject still claimed the attention of the groups into which -the company subdivided itself. Here Mrs. Baxter found an opportunity to -repeat her inquiry whether either, neither, or both cared, which really -was the most interesting uncertainty of the situation, and one which -elicited a variety of opinion. Some, like Mrs. Cole, were still -incredulous, or chose to be, that either of them was in earnest. But -several of the more knowing women wagged their heads in concert with -Mrs. Cunningham, who, seated where her vision could rest on the -full-length portrait of her husband swathed in pink as the first Master -of the Westfield Hounds—one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> of the new decorative features—repeated -data to the effect that Herbert Maxwell was looking glum and was -drinking a little—much more than ever before in his life.</p> - -<p>"Poor fellow!" sighed Miss Marbury, and she added, as though in -self-congratulatory monologue, that there were some compensations in -being single.</p> - -<p>"Nothing of the kind; you know nothing about it," said Mrs. Cunningham -tartly. She did not choose to hear the institution of holy matrimony -traduced by a mere spinster; moreover, her nerves were on edge because -of her solicitude lest the most appalling possibility of all were -true—that Lydia really cared. For, granting the hypothesis, what might -not Lydia do? What would Lydia do? And as yet, though conjecture ran -riot and all <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>Westfield was holding its breath, no one could speak with -authority as to what the truth was. Nevertheless, Mrs. Cunningham, as an -observer, was disposed to take a pessimistic view as to what the future -had in store for the colony, the good repute of which was precious to -her. On the other hand, many of the younger spirits among the women were -inclined to regard the mother of the hunt as a croaker, and as they -chatted apart from her on this occasion they cited her late opposition -to the recent innovations at the club as typical of her mental attitude.</p> - -<p>"Yet to-day, if a vote were taken whether we should go back to the old -primitive order of things," added Mrs. Miller, "she would be one of the -most strenuous defenders of the extra space and improved service which -we now enjoy. She can't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> keep her eyes off that portrait of her husband. -Look at her now."</p> - -<p>The stricture, so far as it related to Mrs. Cunningham's change of front -regarding the alterations, was just. Yet her frank acceptance and -enjoyment of the more decorative rooms and ampler creature-comforts, -even though they wore a radiance reflected from her husband's -full-length figure, revealed a broad and accommodating mind. There are -some persons who will continue to glorify the superseded past even in -the face of a manifestly more charming present. These are the real old -fogies, and there is no help for us, or them, but to ignore them. But -Mrs. Cunningham was of the sort which, though conservative, is ready to -be convinced even against its will; and, having been convinced, she was -able to draw her husband<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> after her. A week's occupation of the new -quarters having made clear to her that, though more luxurious, they were -vastly more convenient, she had sighed and given in. Now there were no -two more resolute defenders of the results of the radical policy than -she and Andrew. Nevertheless she drew the line there, and still, -suspicious of what others defined as the march of progress, she was -prepared like a faithful sentinel to challenge developments which -aroused her distrust. Because the new club-house was a success, and the -inroad of multi-millionnaires had not been so subversive of the best -interests of the colony as she had feared, there was no occasion to -relax her vigilance. Thus she argued, and hence her genuine and somewhat -foreboding solicitude as to Lydia's behavior.</p> - -<p>But though Harry Spencer continued to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> dog the footsteps of Mrs. -Maxwell, so that he appeared in her society on all occasions, and people -wondered more and more how the husband could permit this triangular -household to continue without open demur, there were no new developments -during the late autumn and winter. Rumors of every description were -rife, but no one of the three interested parties deigned to provide a -solution of the enigma. Maxwell's demeanor on the surface was so far -unruffled that certain observers continued to maintain that his wife's -state of mind was entirely platonic; in other words, that he trusted -Lydia, and, though he might have preferred more of her society, was -willing she should amuse herself in her own way—which was not apt to be -the conventional way. And if he did not object, why should anyone else, -especially as the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> Maxwells were now in their town house and local -censorship by Westfield was suspended? But the majority shook their -heads, and repeated that though Maxwell held his peace, he was out of -sorts and still drinking more than his wont. Then, just as the community -was getting a little weary of the whole subject because nothing did -happen, the breaking out of the war with Spain drove it out of -everyone's mind.</p> - -<p>For the Westfield Hunt Club was up in arms at the first suggestion of -powder. All the small talk that spring bore on the matter of enlisting, -or on the men who had enlisted. Everyone wished to be a rough rider, and -if a commission in that favorite corps had been the certain prerogative -of an offer of service, all the able-bodied bachelors in the colony -would have enrolled themselves. As it was, there were numerous<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> -applicants for this particular aggregation of fighters, but only Kenneth -Post, the master of the hounds, succeeded in joining it. Half a dozen -obtained billets elsewhere: Guy Perry on one of the war vessels -despatched to Cuban waters, young Joe Marbury in another of the -volunteer regiments, and Dick Weston, pretty Mrs. Baxter's brother, on -one of the yachts converted into a coast guard for the protection of our -Atlantic cities against bombardment by the battle-ships of Spain.</p> - -<p>Harry Spencer was also one of the half dozen. When he promptly proffered -his services to the Government, it was somehow taken for granted that he -would get a good post; and presently he justified his reputation by -receiving an invitation to join the staff of a brigade on the eve of -embarking for Cuba. No one at Westfield impugned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> his courage or -questioned his patriotism, but some of the women in discussing the -matter later agreed that he had to go. Mrs. Cole put it in a nutshell -when she said:</p> - -<p>"If by any chance Lydia cares for him, she would never have spoken to -him again had he remained at home."</p> - -<p>But there were cases, too, of disappointment. Andrew Cunningham, who, in -spite of conjugal bonds, was eager to go to the front, was rejected on -account of his age and weight, much to his chagrin and to the secret -satisfaction of his better-half. Douglas Hale was discarded on the plea -of color-blindness, though, as he pathetically informed his -acquaintance, the doctor who examined him declared that he had never -seen a finer physical specimen in other respects. Hence it will be -perceived that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> there was a nucleus left for the maintenance of a steady -fire of conversation at the club-house for the benefit of the -stay-at-homes.</p> - -<p>At first, in keeping with the course of events, it centred on the -possibilities of the destruction of New York, Boston, or Portland by the -enemy's fleet; and after that bogy was laid, and the phantom fleet -located, it reverted to that ever-fresh topic for controversy, the cause -of the blowing up of the Maine. Then it turned to Manila, and when the -events of that splendid victory had been threshed threadbare, scented -trouble with Germany. The victory at Santiago set every tongue a-wagging -and raised enthusiasm to fever pitch; but presently the struggles of our -poorly rationed troops prompted an inquiry into the merits of General -Shafter as a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span>commander, and one heard the hum of speculation as to what -would have happened if Cervera had not come out when he did.</p> - -<p>Some of the members showed themselves positive arsenals of statistics -and secret information from the scene of action. Instead of dwelling on -his misfortunes at golf, Douglas Hale's shibboleth all summer was the -letter which he carried in his pocket from Guy Perry, who had the good -fortune to be in the van of the battle of Santiago. This he read to -every man or woman of his acquaintance who would let him, and cherished -as an historical document which put him in close touch with the -authorities at Washington. Andrew Cunningham tried to make the best of -his disappointment by showing himself an audible authority on the size -and equipment, identity and immediate location of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> every battle-ship, -cruiser, and torpedo-boat in the navy, and as to our future needs to fit -us to cope with the naval armaments of the other great powers of the -world. As to the women, they were utterly absorbed in making bandages -and comfort bags.</p> - -<p>Such were the diversions of the spring and early summer. By August the -heroes returned from the front and began to reappear on their native -heath. Other sporting garb gave place to regimental attire, and, to be -in fashion, both men and women wore army slouch hats and suits akin to -khaki. One of the first of the Westfield colony to reach home was Guy -Perry, looking brown as an Indian from his long exposure to the sun -outside the harbor at Santiago. On the day after his return his -engagement to Miss Peggy Blake was formally announced, much to the -delight of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> everybody, but to no one's surprise—a fact which slightly -dismayed the radiant couple, who were apparently under the delusion that -their tryst had been kept a profound secret. They were certainly an -attractive-looking pair as they dashed about the country on Guy's -dog-cart, proclaiming their good fortune to the world. Peggy's rough -rider hat, perched on the back of her head, suited her style of beauty; -and as they bubbled over with health and happiness, more than one camera -fiend took a shot at them as a charming epitome of the strenuous life.</p> - -<p>On the other hand, Kenneth Post returned on a litter, almost a skeleton -from fever; and Gerald Marcy, who against his own doctor's advice had -finally succeeded in getting stalled in camp in Florida, was limping -with rheumatism. Nevertheless,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> he was able to be about, and, though on -ordinary occasions a socially tactful spirit, he did not attempt to -conceal his pride at being the only one of the middle-aged men who had -succeeded in dodging the authorities and serving his country.</p> - -<p>But the hero who brought back the stateliest palm of glory from Cuba was -Harry Spencer, for he had his arm in a sling from a flesh wound caused -by a Spanish bullet at San Juan Hill, and had been subsequently in the -hospital, threatened with blood poisoning. He was emaciated and -interesting-looking, so Mrs. Cole, who had a glimpse of him, declared, -and he went straight to the small cottage at Westfield where he had -spent the previous summer.</p> - -<p>Two days subsequent to his return the spirit moved Mrs. Cole to call on -Lydia,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> and on the afternoon of the day she paid this visit it was -noticed that she sat pensive and silent while the other women at the -club were drinking tea. It was Mrs. Barker who called attention to the -circumstance by asking:</p> - -<p>"What are you incubating on, Fannie?"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Cole hesitated for a moment, then she said tragically, "I am afraid -she cares for him."</p> - -<p>No one had to ask who was meant.</p> - -<p>"What did I tell you?" exclaimed Mrs. Cunningham.</p> - -<p>"What makes you think so?" asked the practical Miss Marbury.</p> - -<p>Fannie Cole shook her head. "Not from anything she said. She didn't -mention the subject. It was from what she didn't say. She made me think -of a pent-up volcano."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p><p>Proceeding from the intimate source it did, this testimony, though -metaphorical, was felt to be most interesting.</p> - -<p>"And if the volcano bursts, what will become of poor Herbert?" murmured -Mrs. Baxter.</p> - -<p>"That's it, of course. Yet it isn't the only thing," responded Mrs. -Cole. "What will become of Lydia? What will become of all three of -them?" The sociological vista which opened before her was evidently so -appalling that she leaned back limply in the straw chair on which she -was sitting. But the attitude was productive of philosophy, for she -suddenly said with the air of one rhapsodizing, but who nevertheless -utters an indictment against Providence:</p> - -<p>"If the divinity which shapes our ends really intended Lydia to be -happy, why<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> was Harry Spencer allowed to return when he did?" Warming to -the vividness of her imagination, she continued briskly, "The ideal -course of events would have been this: First, the baby should never have -been born; secondly, Herbert Maxwell should have felt an uncontrollable -patriotic call to go to the war; he should have fought with -distinguished valor and brilliancy—sufficient to inscribe his name on -the pages of history—and he should have been shot dead. That would have -satisfied him. Then would have been the time for Harry Spencer to come -home. With him and Herbert's fortune Lydia might have been radiantly -happy. As it is—" Mrs. Cole paused, palsied by the perplexities of -reality, and unwilling to venture on prophecy.</p> - -<p>But Mrs. Baxter saw fit to finish the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> sentence for her by a not -altogether logical utterance: "As it is, it was Mr. Spencer who went to -the war and has come back alive and a hero. If Lydia liked him before, -it is of course all the harder for her not to like him now."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Cunningham uttered a sort of groan. Then she said emphatically, -"There can be but one end to it, in my opinion. Sooner or later she will -leave her husband and run away with him."</p> - -<p>There was a general nodding of heads—all but Mrs. Cole's.</p> - -<p>"And what will they do with that poor baby?" interjected Miss Marbury.</p> - -<p>Fannie Cole sat up by way of protest. "My dears," she said with gasping -alertness, "that would be comparatively normal, and it cannot be the -correct solution. Don't you see it's impossible? Neither of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> them has -any money. If she would, he wouldn't, and neither of them would." She -looked around the circle with a smile of triumph, knowing that her -stricture was unanswerable.</p> - -<p>"I never thought of that," said Mrs. Baxter, voicing the general -perplexity.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p> - -<h2>VI</h2> - -<p>Late one afternoon, about a month after, Lydia Maxwell was sitting in -her drawing-room at Westfield. An exquisite tea service stood on a table -close at hand. But tea had been served. At least the visitor who had -been spending the afternoon with her had drunk his and had been gone -about ten minutes. Her baby, left by the nurse on the way to her own -evening meal, was cooing on the sofa at her side, fended by pillows from -toppling over on its head, and provided with the latest novelties in -costly toys. The child was now nearly two, and her wardrobe was a credit -to her mother's decorative instincts. Lydia enjoyed the combination of -the infant and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> herself and spared no pains to produce an effective -picture on all occasions, whether the setting were the drawing-room, a -victoria, or a village cart. She counted on mounting Guendolen at the -earliest possible day on the tiniest of ponies as a picturesque hunting -attendant. Nor had her husband failed to appreciate what an opportunity -was here afforded for the artist. Six months earlier he had -threatened—the phrase was Lydia's—to have her and baby done by Sargent -on his next visit; in fact, Herbert had written to him. The offer had -been tempting from the point of view of immortality, but left alone with -the child, she had shaken her head and said:</p> - -<p>"It would be lovely if it were just right, Guen, but he might take it -into his head to form a vicious conception of mamma. And as for you, he -couldn't help making<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> you the speaking image of Grandma Maxwell. Living -pictures are safest for us, dear, for we can control the canvas."</p> - -<p>Now she sat pensive and tense, her hands clasped in her lap. "Why do I -love him so?" she murmured under her breath, rebelling against the -consciousness which gripped her. Yet in another moment she asserted with -the abandonment of one defending his faith against all comers, "But how -I do love him!"</p> - -<p>A jocund, inarticulate effort at conversation by the child reminded her -of its presence. Reaching out her hand, she felt the silky softness of -the delicate infantile locks, and then the dainty texture of the frilled -dress. Again she said, talking to herself: "The problem is, what will -become of you, cherub? You must go with me, of course—if I go."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p><p>Her baby cooed by way of response. There was a noise in the hall as of -someone arriving.</p> - -<p>"A visitor for you, Guen," she said. Hurriedly leaning over, she raised -her finger as one would to hold the attention of a dancing dog, and gave -this cue for imitation.</p> - -<p>"Say pa-a-pa—pa-a-pa."</p> - -<p>The earlier lessons had been fairly learned, for after a brief struggle -the dawning intelligence freed itself in an unequivocal if throaty -reproduction of the pious salutation.</p> - -<p>"You little pet! Now again."</p> - -<p>"Pa-a-pa."</p> - -<p>"At last. A sop to Cerberus," Lydia murmured.</p> - -<p>The door opened and the master of the house entered. He had just come -back<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> from an afternoon ride, and in the few minutes which had elapsed -since his return Lydia knew that he had been to the sideboard in the -dining-room—a man's way of alleviating despondency. His glance, -avoiding or ignoring his wife, sought eagerly the object which he -expected to find—his infant daughter. This was the bright spot in his -day. The baby acknowledged his advent by a crow and by shaking a solid -silver rattle. Maxwell, walking across to the other side of the room, -sat down and held out his arms invitingly. But Lydia intervened to defer -the customary toddling journey in order to exhibit her pupil's latest -accomplishment.</p> - -<p>"Listen to her now, Herbert," she said, and gave the necessary signal.</p> - -<p>"Pa-a-pa." The verisimilitude was undeniable.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p><p>Something very like a groan escaped Maxwell, though his countenance -lighted up. Was he thinking how happy he might have been had fate so -willed?</p> - -<p>The performance was repeated successfully a second time; then the child -was despatched on her travels across the carpet. When she ran staggering -into her father's arms he folded her to his breast and pressed his lips -against the fair, silky tresses. She was accustomed to be thus cuddled -by him, though to-night there was an added fervor in his endearments, -owing to her efforts at speech. Meanwhile Lydia from her angle of the -sofa observed them in demure silence. She had given him an entrancing -quarter of an hour, for which she was thankful. Besides, it might put -off the evil day—the day of rupture, decision, breaking up of the -present anomalous <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span>domestic relations—which was impending. He had been -devoted, forbearing, unselfish, he had lavished on her every luxury, but -he was impassible. He did not divert or interest her; his serious side -lacked originality; his gayer moods were noisy and deficient in -subtlety; the reddish inelegance of his physique repelled her. But what -was to be the end? This was the riddle which for diverse reasons she had -yet failed to solve. Its solution must depend on the future words of -both of them, and she had had no final explanation with either. For the -present she would fain have things remain as they were, until she could -find the key.</p> - -<p>The return of the nurse interrupted Maxwell's happiness. Grudgingly he -gave up his treasure. As soon as the child had been carried off, he -rose, and standing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> with his back to the blaze of the wood-fire, which -the first sharpness of autumn made agreeable, he faced his wife.</p> - -<p>"I met Spencer coming from here."</p> - -<p>"He stayed to tea."</p> - -<p>"And was here all the afternoon?"</p> - -<p>"You know he comes every afternoon."</p> - -<p>"And nearly every morning?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"What is to be the end of this, Lydia?"</p> - -<p>She was preparing his tea, which he was accustomed to take after the -departure of Guendolen. "How do you wish to have it end?" she asked -presently.</p> - -<p>"I would have you promise me never to see him again, and to go abroad -with me for two years. Let us change the scene entirely. You owe it to -me, Lydia, and to our child." This was no new discussion, but he was -making one last determined<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> effort to counteract the influences working -against him.</p> - -<p>"But you know I love him."</p> - -<p>"So you have informed me. You have informed me also that it has stopped -there."</p> - -<p>"It is true. Why, I scarcely know. Perhaps it would have been juster to -you if I had left you and gone to him."</p> - -<p>"I do not understand."</p> - -<p>"No matter, then."</p> - -<p>"But you loved me once," he exclaimed resolutely. "That is, you told me -so."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I told you so. And I did love you as I understood loving then. I -liked you, that's what it really was, and I liked the things which a -marriage with you brought me."</p> - -<p>"You mean you married me for my money?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span></p><p>"I did not know it at the time."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean, then?"</p> - -<p>Lydia clasped her hands behind her head and leaned back in her seat. "I -am trying to be frank with you," she said. "I am trying to make you the -only reparation in my power—to let you see me just as I am, just as I -see myself. We are what we are. I discovered that long ago."</p> - -<p>He caught up this appeal to fatalism with a quicker appreciation of her -significance than he was wont to show.</p> - -<p>"You need never see this man again unless you choose. You are my wife; I -am your husband. Does that stand for nothing?"</p> - -<p>"I should choose to see him," she answered with low precision, ignoring -the rest. "There is the trouble."</p> - -<p>He winced as though from a buffet.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> "Good God, Lydia, what have I done? -Is there anything within my power which you desired which I haven't -given you?"</p> - -<p>"You have been very generous."</p> - -<p>"Generous!" The word evidently galled him. "Do you realize that to -regain your love I would gladly sacrifice every dollar of the five -million I own?"</p> - -<p>For a moment she made no response. The idea of living with a penniless -Maxwell was one which she had never entertained, and it made clearer to -her the hopelessness of her plight.</p> - -<p>"I am not worth it, Herbert," she said gently.</p> - -<p>He, too, paused, baffled and at a loss how to proceed. "You are so -cold," he asserted with an access of indignation.</p> - -<p>"Cold?" The quality of the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span>interrogation expressed the incredulity of -newly discovered self-knowledge.</p> - -<p>"To me."</p> - -<p>"Yes, to you, Herbert."</p> - -<p>He bent his brow upon her. "I suppose if I had devoted myself to some -other woman I might not have lost you. I had hints enough from our kind -friends, which I ignored because I did not choose to soil our wedlock by -such a foul pretense." His conclusion betrayed the loyalty of his -emotions, but there was the sneer of gathering temper in his tone.</p> - -<p>Lydia shook her head with a fastidious smile. "With some women that -might have been the remedy. It could have made no difference with me."</p> - -<p>"It is not too late yet," he cried with loud-mouthed menace. "You forget -that I am human—that I am a man."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p><p>She raised the pages of a book beside her and let them fall gradually. -"You must do as you choose about that."</p> - -<p>"Then what is the remedy?" he shouted.</p> - -<p>"I used an inappropriate word. There is no remedy in our case."</p> - -<p>"Lydia, you are goading me to ruin."</p> - -<p>Striding up and down the room, he struck his leather breeches smartly -with his riding-crop—which he had brought from the hall because the -baby liked to play with it—so that they resounded. He halted before his -wife and exclaimed hoarsely:</p> - -<p>"What are we to do, then?"</p> - -<p>She had been warned by feminine innuendoes before marriage of the -Maxwell vehemence below the surface, and she perceived that their -affairs had reached a crisis.</p> - -<p>"Sit down, Herbert, please. I cannot<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> bear noise. If we are to arrange -matters, we must talk quietly in order to decide what is really best -under all the circumstances."</p> - -<p>He gave an impatient twist to his head. "I wish you to know that I am -master here after this," he announced. Nevertheless, he walked to the -chair near the fireplace, which he had first occupied, and sitting down, -folded his arms.</p> - -<p>"Well, what have you to say?"</p> - -<p>"To begin with, Herbert, there is no escape for either of us from this -calamity. And you must not suppose that I do not realize how dreadful it -is for us both. So far as there is fault, it is mine. I ought never to -have married you. But the past is the past; I do not love you now; I can -never love you again."</p> - -<p>"One way out of it," he said between his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> teeth, "would be to kill the -man you do love."</p> - -<p>"How would that avail?"</p> - -<p>"I have thought more than once of shooting him down like a dog," he -blurted.</p> - -<p>Lydia shook her head. "You never could do that when it came to the -point. And in case of a duel, he is more handy than you. Besides, who -fights duels nowadays? And think of the newspapers! You know as well as -I that such a thing is out of the question—on Guen's account if for no -other reason. It would be blazoned all over the country."</p> - -<p>"On Guen's account! Why did you not think of her before you sacrificed -us both?"</p> - -<p>She looked back at him unruffled. "I am thinking of her now," she -replied with her finished modulation. "I have told you I am what I am."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p><p>"Do not repeat that shallow sophistry," he exclaimed fiercely. "You are -what you choose to be." But in the same breath he fell back in his seat -with the air of one confounded. Then, resting his elbow on the arm of -the chair and his cheek on his hand, he gazed at her from under his -reddish, beetling brows as one might gaze at the sphinx. "What, then, do -you suggest?" he asked wearily.</p> - -<p>Lydia had shrugged her shoulders at his last stricture. Now raising -again the cover of the book beside her and letting the leaves slip -through her fingers, she replied slowly, "I suppose if you were a -foreign husband you would accept the inevitable and console yourself as -best you could. We should go our respective ways and ask no questions. I -should be discreet and—and things would <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span>remain as they are so far as -Guen is concerned."</p> - -<p>"I see. But I am an American husband, and, though they have the -reputation of being the most accommodating in the world, they draw the -line at such an arrangement as you suggest."</p> - -<p>"I thought very likely that you would. Then we must separate. Sooner or -later, I suppose, you will be entitled to a divorce, if you wish it."</p> - -<p>There was a pause. "Where will you go?" he asked in a hollow tone.</p> - -<p>"I have not thought," she answered.</p> - -<p>It was the truth. Clever and discerning as she was, she had put off the -inevitable from day to day, basking in the glamour of the present. What -would her lover say? Would he be ready to venture all for her sake? to -throw convention to the winds<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> and glory in their passion? She did not -know; she had never asked him. They had never discussed the future. She -needed time—time to think and time to ascertain. Then a sudden thought -seized her, and she spoke:</p> - -<p>"I shall take Guen."</p> - -<p>"Guen?" There were agony and revolting consternation in his exclamation.</p> - -<p>"I am her mother. She is a mere baby. Am I not her natural guardian?"</p> - -<p>He sprang to his feet. "I should not permit it!" he thundered. "I should -go to law; I should appeal to the courts."</p> - -<div class="center"><a name="i165.jpg" id="i165.jpg"></a><img src="images/i165.jpg" alt="I should not permit it he thundered" /></div> - -<p class="bold">"I should not permit it!" he thundered. "I should go to -law;<br />I should appeal to the courts."</p> - -<p>Her wits showed themselves her allies. "But if you drive me from this -house, the courts will give her to me," she said triumphantly. "What, -after all, have I done? You are jealous, and you dismiss me. They will -let me have my baby."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p><p>The horror inspired by her cool, confident declaration choked his -utterance. He raised his riding crop in his clenched fist as though he -were impelled to strike her. "You—you—" he articulated, but no -suitable stigma was evolved by his seething brain. His arm fell, but he -stood with set teeth and bristling mien, like a wild boar at bay.</p> - -<p>His fury had the effect of enhancing Lydia's appearance of calm. "There -is no use in getting excited. I'm only telling you what is likely to -happen if we have recourse to desperate measures. She's a girl, and I -brought her into the world—had all the stress of doing so. Why -shouldn't I have her? I've heard lawyers say that when parents separate -the courts consider what is for the best good of the children. Surely it -is for the best good of a baby girl of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> two that she should go with her -mother. That's the modern social view, Herbert, and a man has to make -the best of it."</p> - -<p>As she proceeded Lydia had warmed to the plausible justice of her -argument. Recognizing that she had put herself in the best possible -position for the time being, she rose to go. Maxwell, gnawing at his -lips, stood pondering her dire words. The appalling intimation that he -might lose his precious child had numbed his senses with dread. He knew -his wife's cleverness, and that there must be some truth in her -statement. Might she not even at the moment be premeditating an attempt -to carry her away? Every other thought became at once subordinate to his -resolve to safeguard his treasure. As though he suspected that his wife -had risen under a crafty impulse to get the start of him, he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> blocked -her pathway by stepping between her and the door.</p> - -<p>"I forbid you to touch her," he said frowningly. "She shall never leave -this house. I am going to give my orders now and they will be obeyed."</p> - -<p>Maxwell stood for a moment as though waiting to see what response this -challenge would elicit, then, with a forbidding nod, he strode from the -room and shut the door after him.</p> - -<p>His departure was a relief to Lydia. All she had desired was to be -alone. She dropped again upon the sofa and sat looking into space. There -was only one course: she must have an understanding with Harry Spencer. -What would he say? What was he prepared to do for her sake? She thought -to herself, "He said once that my time would come. It has come, and,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> as -he prophesied, I am just like the others—only more so. More so because -they might be ready to give him up; they might not have the courage to -persevere and sacrifice everything else for the one thing which is worth -while—love. And I thought it would never come—that I was cold, as -Herbert says, and likely to be bored all my life. Now, against my creed, -against my will it has come, and I cannot do without him." For a moment -she sat in reverie, then murmuring, "I must know—and the sooner the -better," she stepped to the desk with an impulsive movement and wrote.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p> - -<h2>VII</h2> - -<p>Lydia's note was a summons to Spencer to go to drive with her on the -following morning. When he arrived she was ready with her village cart -and a fast cob. Regardless of appearances, her project was to seek some -distant spot where they would not be interrupted. The woods near Duck -Pond—in which they had passed pleasant hours together twice -already—commended themselves to her, and thither she directed their -course under the mellow October sunshine. She spoke of their jaunt as a -picnic, the edible manifestations of which she disclosed to him stowed -in neat packages behind. But she vouchsafed no immediate explanation of -the true purpose of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> this impromptu expedition. She was biding her time -until they should walk together in the sylvan paths, free from all -danger of interference. Since matters were approaching a climax, she was -glad also to give herself up for the moment to the glamour of sitting at -his side and realizing their affinity. Of all the men of her -acquaintance he was the only one who had never bored her; who seemed to -divine and cater to her moods; who amused her when she craved -entertainment, and was alive to the precious value of opportune silence. -He seemed to her possessed of infinite tact—and Lydia experienced an -increasing repugnance when her social sensibilities were jarred. That -had been one great trouble with Maxwell; he was forever doing the right -thing in the wrong way. His very endearments were awkward, whereas her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> -present companion's slightest gallantry gave a pleasant fillip to her -blood.</p> - -<p>Spencer, on his part, was quite content to ask no questions. He was with -the woman who exercised a subtler and more permanent fascination over -him than anyone he had hitherto met, not excepting Miss Wilford, and -this drive was only cumulative proof of favor on her part, one more sign -that their relations were approaching a crisis. What the precise and -ultimate result of their growing intimacy was to be he had not felt the -need to consider. For the moment it sufficed to know that, though both -her partiality for him and his influence over her were unmistakable, she -had up to this point kept him at bay—eluded him when she seemed on the -point of throwing herself into his arms. This skilful restraint on her -part had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> served to heighten the interest of his pursuit, and also to -deepen the ardor of his attachment.</p> - -<p>Before they had gone beyond the limits of Westfield several of their -mutual acquaintance were encountered, all of whom were too well-bred to -betray the vivid interest which the meeting aroused. Mrs. Cole, on her -way to play golf at the club, nodded to them blithely from her phaeton, -as though it were the most natural thing in the world they should be -together, and so concealed from them her dire suspicions which were thus -afforded fresh material to batten on. Gerald Marcy, sportsman-like and -dignified on his grizzled hunter, saluted them with the off-hand decorum -of a man of the world.</p> - -<p>"Glorious weather for man and beast," he asserted, as much as to say -that he knew<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> how to mind his own business. When they had passed him, -however, he tugged nervously at his mustache and wagged his head like a -soothsayer.</p> - -<p>The newly engaged couple, sitting side by side in a village cart of -similar pattern to theirs, managed to conceal that they did not know -which way to look, and sustained the ordeal creditably, though the girl -was conscious that her cheeks were flushing. As they left the culprits -behind, Peggy clutched her lover's arm and whispered hoarsely, "Did you -see that?"</p> - -<p>"It's too bad," said Guy, who, being neither blind nor imbecile, had not -failed to take in the full import of the situation. "I for one am all in -the dark as to how this thing is going to end."</p> - -<p>"I knew they would be great friends, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> I never supposed for a minute -that it would come to anything like this," mused the maiden sadly. "Even -when she chaperoned us that night I took for granted it was nothing -really serious."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Gordon Wallace, who, being a new-comer from the West, was less of -an adept, perhaps, in disguising her real feelings, put up her eye-glass -a little feverishly as she bowed. Whereupon it pleased Lydia to whisk -her head round a moment later.</p> - -<p>"She was staring after us with all her eyes!" she exclaimed. "I knew she -would; she couldn't resist the temptation. She will report that I have a -guilty conscience, whereas I was merely studying human nature in -violation of my own social instincts."</p> - -<p>"What did she see, after all?" queried<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> Spencer, supposing that his -companion stood in need of a little soothing.</p> - -<p>"Everyone is talking about us, as you know," Lydia answered, ignoring -the query. "We have been for months the burning topic at Westfield, and -the fame of our misdeeds has spread abroad. Everything considered, -people have been wonderfully forbearing to our faces—perfect moles, in -fact—but behind our backs they are chattering like magpies. Fannie Cole -intimated as much, though I had guessed it."</p> - -<p>"Why need we care what they say?" he asked sedulously. What better -opportunity would he have than this for feeling his way? "We know that -there have been no misdeeds."</p> - -<p>She touched the horse with the tip of her whip, and he bounded forward. -"Is it not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> the prince of misdeeds that we love one another?" she said -after a moment.</p> - -<p>"We cannot help that."</p> - -<p>"But since it is true, what are we going to do about it, my friend?"</p> - -<p>"Do? Lydia," he whispered eagerly and bent his cheek toward hers, "it is -for you to say."</p> - -<p>She recoiled chastely from his endearment, though she thrilled at the -proximity. "Is it? I am not sure. I asked you to come with me this -morning in order to find out. It appears that we have reached the -parting of the ways."</p> - -<p>"The parting?" he queried apprehensively.</p> - -<p>"Not for us, unless we choose."</p> - -<p>"Ah." It was the sigh of an ardent lover.</p> - -<p>"Wait. I will tell you by and by when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> we can talk it out freely." She -turned and smiled on him with an effulgent grace such as she had never -in her life lavished on Maxwell. Therein she threw wide open for a -moment the casement of her soul and let him perceive the completeness of -the havoc he had wrought.</p> - -<p>"You angel!" he answered, breathing softly, and he pressed her hand. He -divined that her dainty spirit was in the mood when all it asked of him -was his presence, and that speech would be a discord.</p> - -<p>They were passing now beyond the confines of Westfield and the influence -of its colony into a more distinctly rural country—stretches of wilder -uplands, now pastures, now woods, alternating with small farm buildings -around which the fields lay stubbly with the party-colored remains of -the harvest, and redolent of autumn odors.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> Presently they reached a -village with a shady main street and old-fashioned white-faced houses, -most of the treasures of which, quaint andirons and other picturesque -relics of a simpler past, had been sent to market owing to the lure of -fancy prices. Then more fields, and at length they branched off from the -main road along a winding lane, on either side of which the view was -partially shut off by clusters of bushes gay with the colors of the -changing season. The perfume of the wild flowers was in the air, and -everywhere the blazon of the golden-rod was visible.</p> - -<p>They had exchanged an occasional word of comment on the sights and -sounds of the varying landscape, yet wholly impersonal. Now once more -she turned toward him with the same lustrous smile, and said, like one -exalted:</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span></p><p>"Love and the world are mine to-day."</p> - -<p>Thrilled by this confession of faith, he looked into her eyes ardently, -and encircling her waist sought to draw her toward him.</p> - -<p>"And they will be mine when you are mine. You must be mine; you shall be -mine."</p> - -<p>She freed herself from his grasp. "Patience, my friend." Her voice had -the tantalizing exultation of an elusive fay. "What should I gain by -that? Would you love me any more than you do now?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, yes indeed," he answered, disregarding logic.</p> - -<p>"I doubt it much," she asserted archly. "But wait."</p> - -<p>On they went, and finally the bushes along the winding lane became trees -and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> the sky above their heads was obscured by patches of foliage. They -were in an expanse of woods which, in spite of the proximity of -civilization, still smacked of luxuriant and elfish nature. The road, -though yet wide enough for a vehicle, wound gracefully between oaks and -pines stately with age. Some reverent hand had protected them. Their -trunks were scarred with weird growths, and on the carpet of the soil -big fungi flourished unmolested. It was a wild region to the imaginative -and uninitiated, yet there were evidences now and again of the nearness -of man and his devices, such as an occasional sign-post or rustic seat. -After half a mile of travel over a soft brown carpet sprinkled with -fragrant pine needles they brought up at their destination, a sort of -sylvan camp—a picnic-ground in reality, a favorite resort<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> of the -masses in midsummer. Now it was deserted for the season.</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>Bare ruined choirs where late the sweet birds sang,</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>though the simile was applicable to the dismantled wooden buildings -rather than to the face of nature. The band-stand and eating pavilion -stood like starving ghosts amid the forest mysteries. But there was a -hitching-post at hand. Lydia knew her locality, and after the willing -cob had been secured and blanketed, she led the way down a short vista -to an arbor or summer house, to which clustering vines still imparted -some semblance of vernal cosiness. The view from it commanded through a -narrow clearing a picturesque outlook on the glistening waters of Duck -Pond, while the crackling underbrush furnished a cordon of alert -sentinels. On the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> rustic bench, where many inelegant predecessors had -carved their initials, there was ample room for two. Nor was it the -first time this pair had made use of it. Settling herself in her corner -with folded arms so as to face her companion, Lydia broke the silence.</p> - -<p>"Herbert says we cannot go on as we are."</p> - -<p>"He has intimated as much several times before."</p> - -<p>"But this time he is in earnest. He has put down his foot. He introduced -the subject yesterday after you had gone. I told him again the -truth—the truth he already knew—that I love you, and not him, and that -I can never love him." She paused. Was it to pique his curiosity, or was -she feeling her way while she revelled for the moment in her -declaration?</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span></p><p>He accepted her avowal complacently as a twice-told tale, but he was -interested obviously in what was to follow.</p> - -<p>"Well?"</p> - -<p>"He declines absolutely to be accommodating and resign himself to the -situation. The customary foreign point of view in such a case does not -appeal to him. When it came to the point I never supposed it would."</p> - -<p>"We were getting along so nicely, too. What brought this on?" Spencer -remarked parenthetically. The triangular footing had been submitted to -by Maxwell for so many months without an outbreak that the logic of -events seemed to him to demand some special incident as a justification -for this sudden revolt.</p> - -<p>"One can never tell when a volcano will assert itself. He simply -exploded, that's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> all," she answered. "The wonder is that he has put up -with it so long."</p> - -<p>"And what is it that he requires?"</p> - -<p>"He implored me never to see you again and to go abroad with him for two -years. When I declined, he said that he and I must separate."</p> - -<p>"A divorce?"</p> - -<p>"We did not discuss precise terms. The idea uppermost in his mind was -much less complex than that. He invited me to leave the house."</p> - -<p>Spencer made an ejaculation of astonishment. "At once?"</p> - -<p>"That was his meaning."</p> - -<p>"And what did you reply?" Under the spur of her disclosure he had risen. -Resting his arm on one of the spiky knobs of the rustic pillar in front -of him, he looked down at her inquiringly. Yet his long,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> athletic, -indolent figure still shrank from the conclusion that the status of -their affairs had been permanently disturbed.</p> - -<p>"I managed not to commit myself at the moment." She paused briefly. "I -desired to talk with you first, Harry. I felt that I must know what you -would like me to do."</p> - -<p>He straightened himself as from surprise. "I could not like you to do -that—leave the house."</p> - -<p>"It would only be possible provided I went to you."</p> - -<p>For a moment he seemed dumfounded. "From his house to me? But, -Lydia"—the boldness of the proposition was so staggering to Spencer, he -felt that he must have misunderstood her, and was groping for her -meaning. His consternation was evidently not unexpected, nor did<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> it -elicit reproach. "No one would call on me, of course," she said dryly. -Then she added with cumulating tenseness, as one pleading a cause which -she suspects to be hopeless, "It would mean the end of everything else -in the world which I care for except one—my love for you. We could -leave this place forever, Harry, go to Australia, the world's end, -wherever you will, and be happy."</p> - -<p>A scampering squirrel with a nut in its mouth hopped into view on the -path, scanned them for an instant, then bounded into the underbrush. But -only just in time. It seemed to Spencer that the little animal was -grinning at him, and he had reached for a missile as an outlet for his -doubly harassed feelings.</p> - -<p>"My dear girl, you are crazy."</p> - -<p>"Very likely, Harry."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span></p><p>"I love you to distraction, God knows, but that sort of thing is out of -date. Why, Lydia, you would be the first to tire of it. Happy? We should -neither of us be happy, for what would we have to live on?" The final -inflection of his voice was veritable triumph, so irrefutable appeared -his logic.</p> - -<p>Lydia gave a profound sigh. "I knew you would say that," she answered -quickly. "But it was our only chance. Suppose I get my divorce and we -marry here, what have we to live on? I have three thousand a year of my -own. And you?"</p> - -<p>"Not quite so much—assured."</p> - -<p>"Exactly. And there you are!—as Henry James's characters are so fond of -saying."</p> - -<p>They gazed at each other mutely.</p> - -<p>"We should be beggars with our tastes,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> she resumed. "It would never -do, would it, dear? You see, I have considered the subject."</p> - -<p>"I perceive that you have." The pensiveness of his tone was a virtual -admission that he had failed to recognize how subtle she had been.</p> - -<p>"The other was our only chance," she repeated. "I would have gone with -you, probably, if you had consented."</p> - -<p>"But I do consent, if you wish it," he asserted eagerly; and falling on -his knee he reached for her hand and pressed it to his lips. For the -first time in his life he had yielded to the intoxication of love -against his reason. The charm of this elusive, chameleon-like being had -got the better for the moment both of his discretion and his inherent -selfishness.</p> - -<p>Though the capitulation entranced<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> Lydia, it had come too slowly and too -late. She shook her head. "It is you who have convinced <i>me</i>. You are -perfectly right. I should tire without things—of living on next to -nothing. It would be impossible. You knew me better than I did myself." -She freed her hand gently from his blandishments and smiled in his face.</p> - -<p>He rose and looked down at her again from the rustic pillar. "We might -manage somehow. I should be ready to try." He was nerved for the -sacrifice.</p> - -<p>"On six thousand? Oh, no, you wouldn't. At any rate, I should not."</p> - -<p>It was futile to pretend that it would be adequate. "We might live -abroad. Things are cheaper there," he suggested.</p> - -<p>"But I don't wish to live abroad. I wish to remain here, and I could not -hold up my head on much less than I have now,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> for, under the -circumstances, no one would call on us if we were poor."</p> - -<p>He showed that he saw the point, but it suited her to enlarge upon it. -"If one has millions and good manners one can do anything in America; -everything else is forgiven. But I would never put myself in the -position where I might be snubbed or pitied. That's why I must be rich. -And as for you, Harry," she continued, "unless you had a stable, steam -yacht, and at least two establishments, you would feel, after you had -cooled off, that you had thrown yourself away, and, consequently, we -should both be miserable."</p> - -<p>He laughed a little sceptically, but he did not deny the impeachment. -"What a clever woman you are, Lydia! That's one reason I love you so. -The thing to do," he said in his caressing voice, "is to prevent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> -matters from reaching the desperate stage. You must patch it up somehow -with Maxwell, and—and we shall find ways to see each other," he added -meaningly.</p> - -<p>She appeared not to hear his suggestion. "One million is the very least -that you and I could marry on—and be perfectly happy. And, if we had -it, we might be very happy."</p> - -<p>Her sigh of regret encouraged his alert warmth. He leaned toward her and -whispered, "Let us, then, be happy in the only way which is possible."</p> - -<p>She raised a warning hand. It was clear that she had understood his -previous innuendo. "To be happy under the rose is respectable abroad, -but here it may mean social ostracism," she replied demurely. "I tell -you that Herbert is dreadfully in earnest. Besides," she added after one -of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> her deliberate pauses, "Do you not love me? That is what I crave. -That is the essential thing for me."</p> - -<p>"You are mocking me," he said with choler.</p> - -<p>"No; only showing myself conservative and sensible like yourself. -Neither of us can afford to sacrifice everything, yet it would be -infinitely preferable to live together. You must find our million."</p> - -<p>Spencer shrugged his shoulders. "Where? In the stock-market? One plunge, -and drink wormwood if I lost? I will make you listen to me yet," he said -with the rising energy of one who feels himself at bay. His eyes gleamed -ardently, and the lines of his dark countenance, little accustomed to -brook opposition, grew rigid as they did in the moments when he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> -concentrated all his nerves on accomplishment.</p> - -<p>The charm of his mastering mood was not lost on Lydia, but its effect -was to fix her wits still more closely on the problem of their future. -Where was the necessary escape or remedy to be found? She lifted her -eyes to meet her lover's gaze, but they stared beyond him into the realm -of speculation. Suddenly she started as one who sees a -spectre—something weird and forbidden. Yet her stricken vision seemed -to gather fascination from a longer look, and she moved her lips as -though she were bandying words with doubts which fell like nine-pins -before her intelligence. Then, with a transport which revealed that she -had taken the intruder, however terrible, to her breast as the bringer -of a dispensation, she exclaimed:</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span></p><p>"Harry, I have found a way."</p> - -<p>"A way?" he ejaculated, for to him there now seemed only one course open -consistent with their necessities, and he feared some radical proposal -as the outcome of her trance.</p> - -<p>"For us to marry. We shall have enough."</p> - -<p>"Where is the gold mine?" he asked indulgently.</p> - -<p>She looked at him musingly with bright, searching eyes. In that moment -she concluded not to reveal her secret. "Yes, a gold mine," she -answered. "We shall have our million—perhaps two. Why not two?" She -asked the question of herself, and it was plain that she saw no stable -obstacle to her now widening ambition.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile Spencer surveyed her with scrutinizing wonder. Evidently her -<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span>transport was genuine. He knew her too well to doubt that there was -some basis for her specific statement as to the money.</p> - -<p>"Two would be better than one, Lydia. Let it be two, by all means," he -said jauntily.</p> - -<p>"It shall be two," she replied with the assurance of a necromancer -confident of compelling respect for his magic wand by the performance of -the marvels he has foretold. "You may kiss me, Harry—once."</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p> - -<h2>VIII</h2> - -<p>The nuptials between Guy Perry and Miss Peggy Blake took place the -following summer—midway in June, the month of brides. They were married -in the little Episcopal church at Westfield, which since the advent of -the colony and of millionnaires had thriven like the traditional bay -tree, for most of the sporting element belonged, nominally at least, to -that fashionable persuasion. Hence the rector, the Rev. Percy Ward, who -had assumed this cure of souls with modest expectations regarding -numbers and revenues, had been pleasantly astonished by the rapid -increase in both. This had not made him proud, but appropriately -ambitious. It had allowed him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> to keep the appearance and properties of -the church up to the mark, æsthetically speaking, by vines, flowers and -fresh paint, and at the proper moment it had encouraged him to ask for a -new house of worship adapted to the needs of his growing congregation. -Success had crowned his efforts. Plans were being drawn for an artistic -and sufficiently spacious building to take the place of the rustic -quarters in use. But the bride had expressed herself as devoutly -thankful that she could be married in the original building, for she had -pious associations with it, and its smaller proportions seemed to her -more in keeping with a country wedding. For Peggy desired that the -ceremony should be an out-of-door affair. She had even thought at first -of being married under a bell of roses on her father's lawn. Yet, when -it came to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> point she adhered to a ceremony in church. She wished to -be wedded to her true love as securely as possible, consequently she -invoked for the purpose full religious rites at the altar, but her -energies respecting the other features of the occasion were bent on the -production of open-air effects. They were to be simple and rurally -picturesque.</p> - -<p>The guests of the happy pair endeavored to comply with the wishes of the -bride consistently with regard for their own personal appearance. That -is, the women came in light summer attire, but with frocks of -fascinating shades, and straw hats of the latest dainty design with gay -feathers. The little church was packed to the doors, and on the green -fronting the vestibule stood those of the men for whom there was no room -inside. The leading members of the hunt were in pink, at Peggy's -suggestion;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> among them Andrew Cunningham with an immaculate stock and a -new waistcoat of festal pattern. It was a radiant, rare June day; not a -cloud was in the sky. The ceremony went off without a hitch save the -momentary hesitation occasioned by the bridegroom's diving into the -wrong pocket for the ring. All Peggy's family had expressed fears lest -her veil should fall off in keeping with her tendencies, so it had been -more than securely pinned to forestall such a calamity. She walked, on -her father's arm, modestly yet firmly up the aisle as became a strenuous -spirit; her responses were agreeably audible; and on her way down, -though she obeyed the instructions given her to keep her eyes straight -ahead—on the ball, as one of her friends had cautioned her—it was -clear from her blissful, confident expression<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> that she found difficulty -in not nodding to her friends right and left by way of letting them know -how happy she was. She was dressed as nearly like a village maiden as -prevailing fashions in wedding garments would allow, and the simplicity -of her garb set off her fine physique and hue of health, which not even -the conventional pallor of brides was able wholly to dispel. Four -bridesmaids tripped behind her, the picture of dainty shepherdesses.</p> - -<p>On reaching the portal, however, Mrs. Peggy was unable to repress her -exuberance; and, before jumping into the carriage which was to carry -them to the breakfast at "Valley Farm," her father's residence, she -grasped and shook ecstatically a half dozen of the nearest hands. Then -as the vehicle containing the happy pair rolled away, while the bride -threw a kiss to the group of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> friends at the door, the swell of a horn -rose melodiously above other sounds, and along the meadow flanking one -side of the foreground the pack of hounds belonging to the Westfield -Hunt came into view headed by the Master, and every hound wore a wedding -favor. This feature had been devised as a surprise to the couple and a -tribute to their devotion to equestrian sport. Besides, it had a special -touch of interest for the women in that everyone knew that Kenneth Post, -the Master, would fain have been in the shoes of the fortunate -bridegroom. Yet he played his part with so much dignity and spirit, as -he led the way toward their destination, that the contagion of his -demeanor spread to the entire retinue of guests which followed in their -various equipages and the omnibuses or so-called "barges" provided, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> -the procession swept along on the wings of gayety.</p> - -<p>In the midst of the confusion of getting away, the pole of pretty Mrs. -Baxter's village cart was broken through collision with the champing -steeds bearing the phaeton containing Mr. and Mrs. Gordon Wallace. Among -the many proffers of succor the first and most acceptable emanated from -Mrs. Walter Cole, who had obviously a spare seat in her neat oak station -wagon. The fact was that Mrs. Cole's husband, having been detained in -town by pressing business, had telephoned his wife at the last moment to -go without him to the ceremony, and that he would follow by the next -train. Consequently she had arrived only barely in time to get a seat, -and that by dint of crowding the pew a little.</p> - -<p>She had sat there as in a trance, unable to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> fasten her attention on the -charming spectacle as fixedly as it deserved. Her mind kept wandering -elsewhere; reverting to certain amazing news of which she had become -possessed only the afternoon before, and which she had had no -opportunity to impart to the many who would be thrilled by it. She was -revelling in the thought of the sensation it would produce, and her own -intelligence was agreeably busy with the clever novelty of the procedure -and with trying to decide whether, in spite of the heartlessness -displayed, the solution devised was not perhaps the best under the -peculiar circumstances. She had felt that she should burst if she could -not tell some kindred soul soon; but such an astounding piece of -information was not to be wasted on people whose faculties were already -fully occupied; it merited a single mind.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> Therefore the moment she -became aware of Mrs. Baxter's mishap, she exclaimed with almost -hysterical eagerness:</p> - -<p>"Rachel, there's a seat for you here. Do come with me; I'm all alone."</p> - -<p>When the invitation was accepted, Mrs. Cole pressed her hand and leaned -back with a happy mien. There was no use in speaking until they were -free from the concourse and were sweeping along the road toward "Valley -Farm." That auspicious moment having arrived, she turned to her friend -and said:</p> - -<p>"Well, dear, the mystery is solved."</p> - -<p>"About Lydia?" asked Mrs. Baxter with breathless animation.</p> - -<p>"Yes. She sent for me as soon as she returned. I went to town to see her -yesterday."</p> - -<p>"Where has she been all this time?"</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p><p>"Nominally, as we were told, travelling in Mexico for two months with -her cousins; in reality coming to terms with Maxwell in regard to a -divorce."</p> - -<p>"Then they are really to be divorced? How pitiful! But I suppose it was -the only solution. Do go on, dear," she added, fearing lest this crude -philosophic digression might be the reason for the pause on Mrs. Cole's -part.</p> - -<p>But the narrator, though she regarded the comment as superficial, was -merely arranging her material with a view to dramatic effect.</p> - -<p>"We had a heart-to-heart talk. She told me everything. She wishes people -to know—and to try to understand her point of view. Yes, Rachel, they -are to be divorced. The papers are already filed. The lawyers say that -it is simple enough, if both the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span>parties are agreed, and it seems they -are—all three of the parties rather. The court proceedings will be as -secret as possible. Herbert is to let her obtain it from him—for cruel -and abusive treatment or gross and confirmed habits of intoxication—to -save Lydia's reputation on the child's account. Then Lydia is to marry -Harry Spencer and live happily ever after—if she can."</p> - -<p>"She never would have been happy with Maxwell," remarked Mrs. Baxter -pensively. "Poor fellow! When one reflects that he probably was never -cruel or abused her in his life, and that his confirmed habits, if he -has them, are due to her neglect! What is to become of him?"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Cole had been waiting for some such question. "The law is queer, -you know," she said, by way of disposing of the rest of the plaint. Then -she added,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> with significant emphasis, "He is to have Guen."</p> - -<p>"Altogether?"</p> - -<p>"Altogether. That is the way Lydia got him to consent to a divorce."</p> - -<p>Not being so clever as some women, Mrs. Baxter looked puzzled. "I don't -think I quite understand."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Cole, who was enjoying thoroughly the gradual climax, sat upright, -and facing her companion laid her hand on Mrs. Baxter's arm.</p> - -<p>"Rachel," she said, "Lydia has sold Guendolen to her husband for two -million dollars!"</p> - -<p>Mrs. Baxter gave a gasp and a smothered shriek. "Two million dollars! -The poor, dear child!"</p> - -<p>The two ejaculations were not entirely consistent, for they revealed a -divided <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span>interest. Mrs. Cole proceeded to face the second first.</p> - -<p>"I've thought it all over and over,—I did not sleep until four, I was -so excited—and there can't be any doubt that, under the circumstances, -it's the best thing for the child. Her father dotes on her, and Lydia -never has been able to forget that she is the living image of his -mother. It was probably a struggle—she intimated as much—for it sounds -so revolting, and a woman is supposed to be a lioness where her own -flesh and blood are concerned. But when it came to a choice between Guen -and Harry Spencer, she chose the one she cared for most."</p> - -<p>"And she really gets two millions? Why, she will be as rich as before."</p> - -<p>"Exactly. That's one of the interesting phases of the case. You see, -they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> couldn't afford to marry, for neither of them had any money to -speak of, though they were dead in love with each other. On the other -hand, they had never done anything—so Lydia swears, and I believe -her—which would entitle Herbert Maxwell to a divorce; so when Herbert -invited her to leave the house, she replied that she would, and that she -would take Guendolen with her. It just happened to occur to her, but the -effect was marvellous. It enabled her to hold over Herbert's head the -menace that, when parents who can't get on agree to separate, the courts -are likely to give a baby girl to the mother, and oblige the father to -be content with occasional reasonable visits. That frightened Herbert -nearly to death. It seems he raged like a bull—poor man!—and -threatened to shoot anyone who laid a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span>finger on the child. Now comes -the really clever part," continued Mrs. Cole, with an appreciative sigh. -"Lydia had threatened to take Guen merely to gain time to think, but -when she realized that she and Harry Spencer could never be happy unless -she were willing to lead what the newspapers call a double life, she was -at her wits' end. Then the idea suddenly occurred to her, and—horrible -as it was at the first glance—it seemed the solution of everything. So -she engaged a lawyer to open negotiations with her husband, and she went -away to Mexico to give Herbert a chance to think over the proposal. She -lived in terror of centipedes while she was gone, but there were lots of -interesting old relics there, and one day she got a telegram from her -lawyer announcing that the whole thing was settled. The necessary papers -have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> been drawn, and as soon as the divorce is granted she will get the -money. What do you think of that? Isn't it original and revolting, and -yet, seeing that she is Lydia, comprehensible? And the most -extraordinary thing of all is that, when one considers the matter -dispassionately, it is not clear that it isn't the most sensible -arrangement all round."</p> - -<p>Rachel Baxter, being of a less philosophical turn of mind, was still -aghast.</p> - -<p>"What will people say?" she added naively, as one in monologue. "Of -course, they have their money."</p> - -<p>"They have their money, and Lydia proposes to come back here as soon as -she has—er—changed husbands. That's just like her, too. She intends -that Westfield shall treat her precisely as though nothing had -happened."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span></p><p>"Really!" Mrs. Baxter's surprise showed a touch of consternation. "It -will be very awkward, won't it? Though, after all," she murmured, "it -isn't anything criminal, like—" She found difficulty in hitting on an -appropriate simile. Meanwhile Mrs. Cole added, dispassionately:</p> - -<p>"She would have come to-day, but she felt that she might be thought -indelicate, considering that it is a wedding, and that her own affairs -are still at sixes and sevens so far as appearances go. But she sent her -love to Peggy."</p> - -<p>At the moment they were dashing up the driveway of "Valley Farm." Mrs. -Baxter, who had been nursing her emotions as one whose ethical -sensibilities had received a blow in the solar plexus, made this attempt -at a summary:</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p><p>"It is diabolical, but interesting. I wonder what people will say."</p> - -<p>No time was lost by either of them in spreading the abnormal news. But -it suited pretty Mrs. Baxter's temperament better to follow in her -companion's wake, supplementing the narrative by ingenuous cooing -speeches rather than by an independent excursion. They joined at first -the procession of guests making snail-like progress toward the bride and -groom, who were holding court in the drawing-room of the decorative -modern mansion built for occupation from May to December. As chance -would have it, they found themselves next in line behind Mrs. Andrew -Cunningham, into whose ear Fannie Cole, bending forward, whispered -simply the fell words:</p> - -<p>"Lydia has sold Guendolen to her <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span>husband for two million dollars, and -is to marry Harry Spencer on the proceeds as soon as the divorce is -granted."</p> - -<p>The mother of the hunt made no sign for a moment, like one stunned. -Then, as comprehension of the facts dawned upon her, the blood mounted -to her face so that the crab-apples in her cheeks were very much in -evidence, and she bounced completely round.</p> - -<p>"That caps the climax! That is the most up-to-date, highly evolved -performance yet. Who told you?" The sardonic ire in her voice was -formidable.</p> - -<p>"Lydia—yesterday."</p> - -<p>Incredulity snatching at the chance of exaggeration was thus baffled. -"It's monstrous! I shall never speak to her again."</p> - -<p>Appalled by the bluntness of the threat, Mrs. Baxter interposed naively, -"But she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> is going to live here after she is married."</p> - -<p>"So much the better." Whereupon Mrs. Cunningham turned her back upon -them, in search of her husband, to whom she felt the urgent need of -imparting the information.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Cole nodded her head, as much as to say that she understood the -point of view, but her perspicuous philosophy prompted her to take a -much broader view of the situation.</p> - -<p>"It's dreadful, May, of course, and disconcerting to maternal notions," -she began; "but—" Then realizing that for the moment the indignant -censor was otherwise occupied, she decided to reserve her ameliorating -comments for a more favorable opportunity than the promiscuous line -afforded. After all, the episode was not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> meat for babes, and undeniably -deserved more than flippant treatment.</p> - -<p>The news thus unbosomed spread like wildfire. After kissing the bride, -Mrs. Cole, during her progress to the piazza and lawn, where many of the -guests were beginning to partake of refreshments appropriate to the -occasion, had the satisfaction of throwing it like a bombshell into -successive groups; while the Cunninghams lost no time in revealing what -they had heard. Wherever it was uttered it took the place of every other -topic, so that presently all the adults and many of the minors of the -company were feverishly discussing the social drama presented.</p> - -<p>The course of the wedding breakfast, thus enlivened, proceeded according -to programme. It was a felicitous scene, what with the balmy, brilliant -day, the brightly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> dressed assembly, and the picturesque addition of the -pack of hounds, which danced attendance at a respectful distance within -proper limits previously prepared for them. After everybody had -congratulated the happy pair, they showed themselves at an angle of the -piazza to cut the wedding-cake which stood festal and massive on an -adjacent table.</p> - -<p>Then at the proper moment the bride's health was proposed by Gerald -Marcy with dignity and grace, in pledge of which everybody's glass of -champagne was lifted and drained. The bridegroom, goaded into speech, -made a few halting remarks expressive of his own happiness and good -fortune, ending in a serious tag of chivalrous, if slightly involved, -sentiment, which evoked fresh enthusiasm.</p> - -<p>Toasts were drunk to the bridesmaids,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> the parents of the bride, and the -Hunt Club. In response to the last of these Mrs. Baxter's brother, Dick -Weston, who possessed a deep-toned voice, started the club-song, the -words of which had been composed by Andrew Cunningham in his salad days -under the inspiration of five Scotches and soda, and been adopted on the -occasion of its first delivery as the property of the colony:</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div>Across the uplands brown we ride,</div> -<div>And our pulses bound with life's ruddy tide,</div> -<div>As we follow the hounds o'er the country-side</div> -<div class="i1">In the brisk October morning.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>So he sang, and everybody joined in the refrain with genial gusto, not -excepting the bride—"Miss West Wind" still, in spite of her veil and -satin attire—who waved her glass and carolled with the rest, until even -the hounds seemed to catch the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> infection and added their notes to the -general jubilation. Then it transpired that stout Miss Marbury had found -the ring in her piece of wedding-cake. This was the source of some -merriment, amid which the bride slipped away to change her dress, and -the guests, left to their own devices, returned to their discussion of -the half-digested news.</p> - -<p>Gerald Marcy, who had heard it, like everybody else, with mingled revolt -and bewilderment, passed from his functions as toast-master to what -might be called the storm-centre of the animadversion, a small -summer-house or arbor on the trellis of which June roses were blowing, -and where the Andrew Cunninghams, Mrs. Cole, the Rev. Percy Ward, and -several others were congregated. He arrived just as the rector was -exclaiming, with pained fervor:</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p><p>"We have here the logical fruits of the present-day degenerate -readiness to put off one husband or wife in order to marry another. If -every clergyman in the land were to bind himself never to perform the -marriage service in the case of any recently divorced person, some -headway might be made against this social pest—the canker-worm of -modern family life."</p> - -<p>The symbolic allusion to canker-worms caused nimble-minded Mrs. Cole to -glance up involuntarily at the vines to meet some impending danger to -her summer finery at the same moment that she replied:</p> - -<p>"I don't think it would make much difference, if you'll pardon my saying -so, Mr. Ward—with Lydia, I mean. She would be content with a justice of -the peace if a clergyman were not forthcoming. But," she continued, with -increasing volubility,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> "what, of course, you wish to know is whether -there is anything which will keep people of our sort—not the wives of -the toiling masses whose husbands beat them and who feel that they ought -to be allowed to solace themselves with a second, but the four hundred, -so to speak, and their friends—from trifling with the marriage -relation. There's only one remedy, in my opinion, though I don't wish to -be understood as advocating it in Lydia's case, for I'm her closest -friend, and she isn't here to defend herself. But if, as appearances -indicate, she has overstepped the limit—though you all admit that the -situation was a tremendous one—the only thing which would cut her to -the quick would be if the people whose friendship she values were to -turn the cold shoulder on her. That's the only criticism she would -really care for,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> Mr. Ward," she concluded alertly, with her head poised -on one side. Mrs. Cole's interest in philosophical discussion was not to -be repressed even by her loyalty.</p> - -<p>"Ah!" exclaimed the clergyman approvingly. "The force of public opinion! -The Church is merely trying to lead public opinion. If public opinion -will act of its own accord, so much the better." Mr. Ward, though -faithful to his principles, was not averse to let this section of his -flock perceive that he welcomed righteousness from whatever source it -proceeded, as became a liberal-minded Christian.</p> - -<p>"What constitutes public opinion in this country?" asked Gerald Marcy. -"One of the evils of universal liberty is that there are no recognized -standards of behavior. It is all go-as-you-please."</p> - -<p>"Amen," ejaculated the rector.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span></p><p>"Consequently," continued Gerald, pursuing the thread of his -contemplation, "a social boycott, such as Mrs. Cole suggests, becomes -effective only when the particular set to which an offender belongs -chooses to take the initiative—which is awkward, for where exactly is -one to draw the line?"</p> - -<p>"I, for one, feel as though I never wished to speak to her again," said -Mrs. Cunningham.</p> - -<p>"She certainly deserves to be cut," said her husband, doughtily. Yet he -added, "It would be precious hard to manage, though—not to mention -inconvenient—if she comes to live at Norrey's Knoll and everything is -patched up according to law."</p> - -<p>"There you are, you see!" exclaimed Gerald. "I tell you," he said, with -a tug at his mustache, "that it's very difficult to cut people whom one -has known all one's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> life, unless they've committed murder or -embezzled."</p> - -<p>"It isn't as though she were a bigamist or living in—in violation of -the seventh commandment," remarked Mrs. Baxter dreamily, remembering -just in time to round out her sentence with decorum for the benefit of -Mr. Ward.</p> - -<p>The rector jumped at the opportunity offered. "Isn't that just what she -is doing? It is precisely that from the Church's point of view."</p> - -<p>"If the Church would only pass a canon forbidding us to call on women -who get divorced in order to marry someone else, it would be easier to -take such a stand," remarked Mrs. Cole.</p> - -<p>"But it isn't the divorce I mind so much. It's her selling Guendolen," -exclaimed Mrs. Cunningham, with the honesty of her <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span>temperament. "We -couldn't ostracize her simply because she has got a divorce and married -again, for there are so many others." Her tone showed that she realized -the impracticability of a social crusade based solely on the existence -in the flesh of a previous wife or husband. Yet she yearned for action -in this particular case. But what could one woman do alone?</p> - -<p>"On the contrary, it seems to me a grand opportunity, ladies," said the -clergyman stoutly. "The conduct of the offending parties in this -instance represents individual selfishness and license carried to the -culminating point. Because you may have neglected to do your duty in -respect to the others is no justification for flinching now. It's the -whole degraded system, root and branch, which I am fulminating against; -but here we have a concrete, monstrous <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span>instance which invites action. -Is ostracism never to be invoked, as Mr. Marcy intimates, except in the -case of the taking of life or where the pocket is affected?"</p> - -<p>There was a painful silence. For a wedding reception the discussion was -becoming decidedly forensic.</p> - -<p>"We must think it over," said Mrs. Cunningham. "If none of us women were -to invite her to our houses or go to hers—" She paused without -completing her sentence, evidently appalled by the vista of social -complications which it opened up.</p> - -<p>"There's nothing else in the wide world which Lydia would mind," said -Mrs. Cole ruminantly. "But it would break her heart."</p> - -<p>"Even a stone can break," Gerald could not refrain from whispering in -the speaker's shell-like ear.</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span></p><p>"That's not fair. You do not understand her, my friend. She sold Guen -to make sure of Harry Spencer." Mrs. Cole answered in the same -undertone, "When he is concerned she is a perfect volcano."</p> - -<p>"Theoretically," continued the grizzled satirist aloud, with a bow of -deference in the direction of the clergyman, "I should like, as a censor -of modern social degeneracy, to see it tried, but—but practically it -seems to me to be out of the question."</p> - -<p>"One woman alone couldn't do it, anyway," blurted out Mrs. Cunningham, -in the accents of dogged distress.</p> - -<p>Just then the murmurs of a small commotion broke in upon their dialogue, -and all eyes were turned in the direction of the front door.</p> - -<p>"The bride is going to start, and she has dropped a comb. If she isn't -careful, her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> hair will come down after all!" exclaimed Mrs. Baxter by -way of elucidation.</p> - -<p class="center">* * * * * *</p> - -<p>One forenoon in the month of July, a year later, the lawn-tennis courts -of the Westfield Hunt Club were all occupied. The reason was clear; -tennis had become the fashionable sport. Some of the younger spirits, -who found golf too gentle a form of exercise, had rebelled successfully -against the predominance of that pastime. Consequently all the people of -every age who try to do what the rest of the world is doing had -consigned their golf clubs to the recesses of their hall closets and -bought rackets. Until the present year two courts, both of dirt, had -amply supplied the needs of the members; indeed, they had often remained -vacant for days at a time. Now even four additional courts failed to -meet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> current demands, and everybody wished to play on those made of -grass, of which there were but two.</p> - -<p>On this particular morning these were in the possession of two pairs of -women players, who might be said to represent the antipodes of feminine -skill at the game. A couple of the younger matrons, Mrs. Reynolds and -Mrs. Miller, both adepts, were engaged in a close, fast contest. Their -balls flew low and swiftly, and their long rallies called forth frequent -applause from the spectators, chiefly women, sitting on benches along -the side lines or on the piazza, as one or the other of the lithe young -women, whose restricted, dainty, diaphanous white skirts seemed almost -glued to their figures, would pick up the ball when it appeared to be -out of reach by dint of a brilliant dash. The other pair<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> of opponents -were Miss Marbury, looking stouter than ever in flannels, and Mrs. -Gordon Wallace. They were tossing slow, high lobs and getting very warm -in the process. They puffed and panted audibly, although the ball struck -the net or flew out of bounds much of the time. Yet they had the -satisfaction of knowing that they were in fashion; moreover, they had -the sanction of their physicians, who advised the exercise as an -antidote against corpulency and rheumatism.</p> - -<p>Most of the men had gone to the city. Douglas Hale and Gerald Marcy were -on one of the dirt courts, and Walter Cole, who was taking his vacation, -was playing golf with Kenneth Post. One solitary woman, Mrs. Cunningham, -was on the links with her husband. She had demurred stoutly at the -contagion of the new fever,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> and still remained faithful to the -fascination of the royal and ancient game. The centre of club life was -undeniably the tennis courts, and thither all those who arrived directed -their footsteps.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Reynolds and Mrs. Miller having finished three sets, repaired to an -isolated bench to enjoy a soda-lemonade and to cool off under the -influences of a friendly chat. Mrs. Reynolds, who, as has been -intimated, wore the breath of life in her nostrils, had got slightly the -better of her adversary, and was inclined therefore to be on the alert, -if not perky. Her ears were the first to detect the whir of an -automobile, and she pricked them up. Then the toot of a horn fixed -everyone's attention on the approaching monster, for automobiles were -still more or less of a novelty, and engendered curiosity. In another -instant a huge<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> machine, of bridal white, as Mrs. Baxter subsequently -described it, tore around the corner of the road, and, dashing past the -occupants of the tennis courts, swept up to the ladies' entrance of the -club-house, where it paused, snorting like a huge dragon. It was the -largest and most imposing "bubble" which Westfield had gazed upon. Many -of the spectators left their places to examine it, and everyone's head -was turned in that direction.</p> - -<div class="center"><a name="i233.jpg" id="i233.jpg"></a><img src="images/i233.jpg" alt="A huge machine of bridal white ... tore around the corner" /></div> - -<p class="bold">A huge machine of bridal white ... tore around the corner.</p> - -<p>"It is they!" said Mrs. Reynolds with emphasis; then, after a pause, she -asked: "Are you going to-morrow afternoon?"</p> - -<p>"I suppose so. As it was a 'request the pleasure,' I had to answer, and -we didn't have an engagement. Besides, she has brought home some lovely -new tapestries, and we are asked to meet an Eastern soothsayer, who is -said to be a marvel at <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span>mind-reading. Mrs. Charles Haviland and half a -dozen women, who are supposed to be fastidious, are coming from town, so -my husband seemed to think we had better go."</p> - -<p>"It's because she's artistic that she is forgiven, so my husband says, -and of course if everyone else is going to 'Norrey's Knoll' there is no -sense in our turning up our noses at the new master and mistress."</p> - -<p>"Is Mrs. Cunningham going?" asked Mrs. Miller.</p> - -<p>"I hear that Dick Weston has bet Mr. Douglas Hale fifty dollars to -twenty-five that she does."</p> - -<p>"I suppose Lydia and her husband have come to lunch and play bridge," -said Mrs. Miller musingly. "They say she plays wonderfully—almost as -well as he does. My husband objects to my playing for money."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span></p><p>"So does mine. He says it is bad form—vulgar for women—and that it is -bringing American society down to the level of the four Georges. But how -about men? I obey him, because I am of the dutiful kind. But how about -men?" she reiterated trenchantly.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Miller dodged the question. "I should fall in a fit if I lost -seventy-five dollars in an afternoon, as some of them do."</p> - -<p>"They say one gets used to it. I have made Alfred promise to give me an -automobile as an indemnity for refusing to play. I must be in fashion to -that extent anyway."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Miller laughed. They were now practically alone. The occupants of -the tennis courts, both women and men, had drifted toward the club -entrance, where<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> they stood admiring the new machine and exchanging -greetings with the newly married owners. The Spencers had been in -possession of "Norrey's Knoll"—which Herbert Maxwell had sold to -Lydia—about three weeks, and on the morrow were to hold an afternoon -reception for the latest social novelty, an Eastern sorceress. From -where they sat the two young women were able to perceive what was going -on, and presumably it was the sight of the grizzled Gerald Marcy -bandying persiflage with Mrs. Spencer which furnished the cue to Mrs. -Miller's next remark:</p> - -<p>"Mr. Marcy says that 'bridge' is essentially a gambling game," she -responded a little mournfully, "and that to play it properly one should -play for money, if at all."</p> - -<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span></p><p>"Mr. Marcy says also, my dears, that there are no recognized standards -of behavior in this country. It is all go-as-you-please," said a -sardonic voice close behind them. They turned in surprise. So absorbed -had they been in their dialogue and in watching the arrival of the -Spencers that they had failed to notice the approach of Mrs. Andrew -Cunningham.</p> - -<p>"And he is right," continued that lady, tossing her golf clubs on the -grass with a somewhat dejected air. "I am going to surrender."</p> - -<p>Thereupon she accepted the space which the others made for her on the -bench, and folding her arms turned her gaze in the direction of the -white monster and its satellites. The elder matron vouchsafed no -immediate key to the riddle she had just enunciated. Mrs. Reynolds<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> -stooped, and picking up the bag of golf clubs examined them with an air -of one who scans ancient, fusty relics.</p> - -<p>"I can't imagine," she said, "how you can keep on playing golf now that -everyone is crazy about tennis."</p> - -<p>Mrs. Cunningham smiled wanly. "That's what I meant," she answered. "I'm -going to begin tennis to-morrow—and I'm also going to Lydia Spencer's -reception. My spirit of opposition is broken."</p> - -<p>"Yes," continued the mother of the hunt, in an apostrophizing tone, as -though she still felt herself on the defensive, "every one is going, and -most of the nice people are coming from town. So why should I be stuffy -and bite my own nose off? Which goes far to prove, my dears," she added, -sententiously, "that the only unpardonable<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> social sin in this country -is to lose one's money. Nothing else really counts."</p> - -<p>"Oh!" exclaimed the two young women together with animation, as each -reflected that Dick Weston had won his bet.</p> - -<hr /> - -<h2>BOOKS BY <span class="smcap">Robert Grant</span></h2> - - -<p>"As an observer of American men and women and things Judge Grant is -without a rival."—<i>The Critic.</i></p> - -<p>"He has proved himself a domestic and social philosopher, happily -commingling sharp vision with a good deal of rational philosophy -touching practical matters and every-day relationships."—<i>The Outlook.</i></p> - -<p class="bold">The Undercurrent</p> - -<p class="bold">Illustrated by F. C. 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The satire in it springs from -abundant knowledge of actual social conditions. It is cutting, but it is -not flippant or cynical. The book is written in dead earnest."—<i>Life.</i></p> - -<p>"In depicting Selma Mr. Grant has produced a work of art so symmetrical -and sincere that it deserves also to be called a work of -science."—<i>London Academy.</i></p> - -<p>"It would be difficult to find a modern novel cleverer than 'Unleavened -Bread.' It is impossible within the narrow limits of a short paragraph -to give any idea of the extreme cleverness with which Selma's character -is drawn. An interesting study of American life, with a subtilely -painted portrait of a delicate and virtuous female Pecksniff. The book -is a great deal more than readable."—<i>London Spectator.</i></p> - -<p>"A very remarkable novel, rich in ideas, strong in high appeal, of great -interest to all students of life and character, and, especially, to -every American who loves his country and desires the best things for -her."—<i>Boston Advertiser.</i></p> - -<p class="bold">The Bachelor's Christmas</p> - -<p class="bold">Illustrated. 12mo. $1.50</p> - -<p>"Mr. Grant's short stories are models in their way. He always writes -well and simply, with no affectations and with much humor."—<i>New York -Times.</i></p> - -<p>"Clever and interesting. Mr. Grant has a happy turn of words, with much -appreciation of humor."—<i>Philadelphia Public Ledger.</i></p> - -<p>"A most agreeable volume."—<i>New York Sun.</i></p> - -<p>"Mr. Grant's humor is kindly, loving, pure, innocent."—<i>New York -Tribune.</i></p> - -<p class="bold">Reflections of a Married Man</p> - -<p class="bold">16mo. $1.25</p> - -<p>"A quiet and extremely pleasant social satire."—<i>Providence Journal.</i></p> - -<p>"Writers of renown have drawn many true and vivid pictures of different -phases of American life, but none has succeeded in presenting anything -more typically American than that which is given us in this small -book."—<i>Chicago Evening Post.</i></p> - -<p class="bold">THE Opinions of a Philosopher</p> - -<p class="bold">16mo. $1.25</p> - -<p>"He at least is a laughing philosopher, and discusses the ups and downs -of married and business and social life with a hopeful spirit. He is -amusing and ranges from lively to severe in his running -commentary."—<i>Springfield (Mass.) Republican.</i></p> - -<p>"The book is altogether a delightful one and its freshness and sincerity -are beyond all praise."—<i>Charleston (S. C.) News and Courier.</i></p> - -<p class="bold">CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS<br />NEW YORK</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Orchid, by Robert Grant - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ORCHID *** - -***** This file should be named 53711-h.htm or 53711-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/3/7/1/53711/ - -Produced by Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Orchid - -Author: Robert Grant - -Illustrator: Alonzo Kimball - -Release Date: December 11, 2016 [EBook #53711] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ORCHID *** - - - - -Produced by Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - -THE ORCHID - -BY -ROBERT GRANT - -ILLUSTRATED BY -ALONZO KIMBALL - -CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS -NEW YORK 1905 - - -Copyright, 1905, by -CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS - -_Published, April, 1905_ - - -TROW DIRECTORY -PRINTING AND BOOKBINDING COMPANY -NEW YORK - - -[Illustration: "I ask you to drink to the happiness of the loveliest -woman in creation."] - - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS - - -"_I ask you to drink to the happiness of the - loveliest woman in creation_" Frontispiece - - Facing - page -_The smile of incredulity which curved her - lips betrayed entertainment also_ 108 - -_"I should not permit it!" he thundered. - "I should go to law; I should appeal - to the courts"_ 156 - -_A huge machine of bridal white ... tore - around the corner_ 222 - - - - -THE ORCHID - - - - -I - - -It was generally recognized that Lydia Arnold's perceptions were quicker -than those of most other people. She was alert in grasping the -significance of what was said to her; her face clearly revealed this. -She had the habit of deliberating just an instant before responding, -which marked her thought; and when she spoke, her words had a succinct -definiteness of their own. The quality of her voice arrested attention. -The intonation was finished yet dry: finished in that it was well -modulated; dry in that it was void of enthusiasm. - -Yet Lydia was far from a grave person. She laughed readily and freely, -but in a minor key, which was only in keeping with her other attributes -of fastidiousness. Her mental acuteness and conversational poise were -accounted for at Westfield--the town within the limits of which dwelt -the colony of which she was a member--by the tradition that she had read -everything, or, more accurately, that she had been permitted to read -everything while still a school-girl. - -Her mother, a beautiful, nervous invalid--one of those mysterious -persons whose peculiarities are pigeon-holed in the memories of their -immediate families--had died in Lydia's infancy. Her amiable but -self-indulgent father had been too easy-going or too obtuse to follow -the details of her home-training. He had taken refuge from qualms or -perplexities by providing a governess, a well-equipped, matronly -foreigner, from whom she acquired a correct French accent and composed -deportment, both of which were now marks of distinction. Mlle. Demorest -would have been the last woman to permit a _jeune fille_ to browse -unreservedly in a collection of miscellaneous French novels. But Lydia -saw no reason why she should inform her preceptress that, having entered -her father's library in search of "Ivanhoe" and the "Dutch Republic," -she had gone there later to peruse the works of Flaubert, Octave -Feuillet, and Guy de Maupassant. Why, indeed? For, to begin with, was -she not an American girl, and free to do as she chose? And then again -the evolution was gradual; she had reached this stage of culture by -degrees. She read everything which the library contained--poetry, -history, philosophy, fiction--and having exhausted these resources, she -turned her attention outside, and became an omnivorous devourer of -current literature. - -Before her "coming-out" party she was familiar with all the "up-to-date" -books, and had opinions on many problems, sexual and otherwise, though -be it said she was an eminently proper young person in her language and -behavior, and her knowingness, so far as appeared, was merely -intellectual. Early in the day her father's scrutiny was forever dazzled -by the assuring discovery that she was immersed in Scott. Mr. Arnold had -been told by some of his contemporaries that the rising generation did -not read Sir Walter, a heresy so damnable that when he found his -daughter pale with interest over the sorrows of the "Bride of -Lammermoor," he jumped to the conclusion that her literary taste was -conservative, and gave no more thought to this feature of her education. -Presently he did what he considered the essentially paternal -thing--introduced her to the social world through the medium of a -magnificent ball, which taxed his income though he had been preparing -for it for a year or two. As one of a bevy of pretty, innocent-looking -maidens in white tulle, Lydia attracted favorable comment from the -outset by her piquant expression and stylish figure. But shortly after -the close of her first season she was driven into retirement by her -father's death, and when next she appeared on the horizon, sixteen -months later, it was as a spirited follower of the hounds belonging to -the Westfield Hunt Club. - -On the crisp autumn day when this story opens, the members of that -energetic body were eagerly discussing the interesting proposition -whether or not Miss Lydia Arnold was going to accept Herbert Maxwell as -a husband. This was the universal query, and the point had been agitated -for the past six weeks with increasing curiosity. The hunting season was -now nearing its close, and the lover was still setting a tremendous -pace, but none of the closest feminine friends of the young woman in -question appeared to have inside information. Even her bosom friend, -Mrs. Walter Cole, as she joined the meet that morning, could only say in -answer to inquiries that Lydia was mum as an oyster. - -"I suppose the reflection that the offspring might resemble Grandma -Maxwell tends to counteract the glamour of the four millions," remarked -one of the group, Gerald Marcy, a middle-aged bachelor with a partiality -for cynical sallies--also an ex-master of the hounds and one of the -veterans of the colony. He was mounted on a solid roan hunter slightly -but becomingly grizzled like himself. Thereupon he gave a twist to his -mustache, as he was apt to do after uttering what he thought was a good -thing. Most of the Westfield Hunt Club were clean-shaven young men who -regarded a mustache as a hirsute superfluity. The nucleus of the club -had been formed twenty years previous--in the late seventies--at which -time it was the fashion to wear hair on the face, but of the small band -of original members some had grown too stout or too shaky to hunt, most -had families which forbade them to run the risk of breaking their -necks, and others were dead. - -Mrs. Cole's reply was uttered so that only Marcy heard it. Perhaps she -feared to shock the smooth-shaven younger men, for, though she prided -herself on her complete sophistication in regard to the world and its -ways, one evidence of it was that she suited her conversation to the -person with whom she was talking. There are points of view which a young -matron can discuss with a middle-aged bachelor which might embarrass or -be misinterpreted by less experienced males. So she caused her pony to -bound a little apart before she said to Marcy, who followed her: - -"I doubt very much if children of her own are included in Lydia's scheme -of life." - -Mrs. Cole was a bright-eyed, vivacious woman, who talked fast and -cleverly. She was fond of making paradoxical remarks, and of defending -her theses stoutly. She glanced sideways at her companion to observe the -effect of this animadversion, then, bending, patted the neck of her -palfrey caressingly. She was herself the mother of two chubby infants, -and, out of deference to domestic claims, she no longer followed the -hounds, but simply took a morning spin to the meets on a safe hack. - -Marcy smiled appreciatively. As a man of the world he felt bound to do -this, yet as a man of the world he felt shocked at the hypothesis. Race -suicide was in his eyes a cardinal sin compared with which youthful -indiscretions resulting from hot blood appeared trifling and normal. -Besides, it was deliberate rebellion against the vested rights of man. -This latter consideration gave the cue to his slightly dogged answer. - -"I rather think that Herbert Maxwell would have something to say about -that." - -Mrs. Cole surveyed him archly, meditating a convincing retort, when -suddenly a new group of riders appeared over the crest of an intervening -hill. "Here they are!" she cried with a gusto which proclaimed that the -opportunity for subtle confabulation on the point at issue was at an -end. - -The newcomers, all ardent hunting spirits--Mr. and Mrs. Andrew -Cunningham, Miss Peggy Blake, Miss Lydia Arnold, Guy Perry and Herbert -Maxwell--came speeding forward at a brisk gallop. Mrs. Cunningham--May -Cunningham--was a short, dumpy woman, amiable and popular, but hard -featured, as though she had burned the candle in social comings and -goings in her youth, which indeed was the case. But since her marriage -she had by way of settling down fixed her energies on cross-country -riding, and was familiarly known as the mother of the hunt. She had an -excellent seat. She and her husband, a burly sportsman whose ruling -passion was to reduce his weight below two hundred pounds, and whose -predilection for gaudy effects in waistcoats and stocks always pushed -the prevailing fashion hard, were prime movers in the Westfield set. -They had no children, and, as Mrs. Cole once said, it sometimes seemed -as though the hounds took the place of them. - -Miss Peggy Blake was a breezy Amazon, comely, long-limbed and -enthusiastic, of many adjectives but simple soul, whose hair was apt to -tumble down at inopportune moments, but who stuck at nothing which -promised fresh physical exhilaration. Guy Perry, a young broker who had -made a fortune in copper stocks, was one of her devoted swains. But -dashingly as she rode, her carriage lacked Lydia Arnold's distinction -and witchery. Indeed, that slight, dainty young person seemed a part of -the animal, so gracefully and jauntily did she follow the movements of -her rangy, spirited thoroughbred. When Gerald Marcy exclaimed fervently, -"By Jove, but she rides well!" no one of the awaiting group was doubtful -as to whom he meant. - -Keeping as close to his Dulcinea as he could, but not quite abreast, -came Herbert Maxwell, a rather lumbering equestrian. Fashion had led -him, the previous season, as a young man with great possessions, to -follow the hounds, but sedately, as became a somewhat sober novice. Love -now spurred him to take the highest stone walls, and for the purpose he -had bought a couple of famous hunters. He had long ago dismissed both -fear and caution, and had eyes only for the nape of Miss Arnold's neck -as they sped over hill and dale. Twice in the last six weeks he had come -a cropper, as the phrase is, and been cut up a bit, but he still rode -valiantly, bent on running the risk of a final tumble which would break -not his ribs but his heart. In every-day life he appeared large and -above the average height, with reddish-brown hair and eyebrows and a -somewhat grave countenance--rather a nondescript young man, but entirely -unobjectionable; the sort of personality which, as Lydia's friends were -saying, a clever woman could mould into a solid if not ornamental social -pillar. - -For Herbert Maxwell was a new man. That is, the parents of the members -of the Westfield Hunt Club remembered his father as a dealer in -furniture, selling goods in his own store, a red-visaged round-faced, -stubby looking citizen with a huge standing collar gaping at the front. -Though he had grown rich in the process, settled in the fashionable -quarter of the city and sent his boy to college in order to make -desirable friends and get a good education, it could not be denied that -he smelt of varnish metaphorically if not actually, and that Herbert -was, so to speak, on the defensive from a social point of view. -Everybody's eye was on him to see that he did not make some "break," and -inasmuch as he was commonly, if patronizingly, spoken of as "a very -decent sort of chap," it may be taken for granted that he had managed to -escape serious criticism. His sober manner was partly to be accounted -for by his determination to keep himself well in hand, which had been -formed ten years previous, during his Freshman year, when one of his -classmates, to the manner born, informed him in a moment of frankness -that he was too loud-mouthed for success. - -This had been the turning-point in his career; he had been toning down -ever since; he had been cultivating reserve, checking all temptations -toward extravagance of speech, deportment or dress, and, in short, had -become convincingly repressed--that is, up to the hour of his -infatuation for Lydia Arnold. Since then he had let himself go, yet not -indecorously, and with due regard to the proprieties. All the world -loves a lover, and to the Westfield Hunt Club Herbert Maxwell's kicking -over the bars of colorless conventionality appeared both pardonable and -refreshing, especially as it was recognized that the manifestations of -his ardor, though unmistakable, had not been lacking in taste. The -sternest censors of society had not the heart to sneer at the possessor -of four millions because the entertainments which he gave in his lady -love's honor were more sumptuous than the occasion demanded, and that in -his solicitude to keep up with her on the hunting field he was an easy -victim to the horse-dealers. Before the bar of nice judgment it was -tacitly admitted that he appeared to better advantage than if he had -ambled after his goddess with the lacklustre indifference which some of -his betters were apt to affect. It takes one to the manner born to be -listless in love and yet prevail; and so it was that Maxwell's reversion -to breakneck manners had given a pleasant thrill to this fastidious -colony. - -Gay greetings and felicitations on the beauty of the day for hunting -purposes were exchanged between the new-comers and their friends. The -men in their red coats had a word of gallantry or chaff for every woman. -New equestrians appeared approaching from diverse directions, while -suddenly from the kennels a few rods distant issued a barking, snuffing -pack of eager hounds, conducted by Kenneth Post, the master, whose -expansive high white stock and shining black leather boots proclaimed -that he took his functions seriously. This was a red-letter day for him, -as he had invited the hunt to breakfast with him at the club-house -after the run. - -Lydia, on her arrival, had guided her thoroughbred to the other side of -Mrs. Cole so deftly that her admirer was shut out from immediate -pursuit. At a glance from her the two women's heads bent close together -in scrutiny of some disarrangement in her riding-habit. - -"Fanny," she whispered, "I've done it." - -"Lydia! When did it happen?" - -"Last evening. I've given him permission to announce it at the -breakfast." - -"My dear, I'm just thrilled. You've kept us all guessing." - -"I've heard that the betting was even," answered Lydia with dry -complacency. The intimation that she had kept the world in the dark was -evidently agreeable. "I wished you to know first of all." - -"That was lovely of you. And how clever to escape the bore of writing -all those hateful notes! That was just like you, Lydia." - -"I know a girl who wrote two hundred, and the day they were ready to be -sent out changed her mind. I don't wish to run the risk. Here comes Mr. -Marcy." - -Fannie Cole gave her hand an ecstatic squeeze and they lifted their -heads to meet the common enemy, man. It was time to start, and he was -solicitous lest something were wrong with Miss Arnold's saddle girths. - -"Beauty in distress?" he murmured with a tug at his mustache. Marcy had -his commonplace saws, like most of us. - -Mrs. Cole was opening her mouth to reassure him on that score when she -was forestalled by Lydia. - -"That's a question, Mr. Marcy, which can be more easily answered a year -or two hence." - -Marcy bowed low in his saddle. "At your pleasure, of course. I did not -come to pry." At his best Marcy had quick perceptions and could put two -and two together. He was assisted to the divination that something was -in the wind by catching sight at the moment of Herbert Maxwell's -countenance. That worthy had been blocked in his progress by pretty Mrs. -Baxter, who, having resented his attempt to squeeze past her by the -following remark, had barred his way with her horse's flank. - -"We all know where you are heading, Mr. Maxwell, but as a punishment for -endeavoring to shove me aside you must pay toll by talking to me for a -little." - -The culprit had started and stared like one awakened in his sleep, and -stammered his apologies to his laughing tormentor. But while she kept -him at bay, his eyes could not help straying beyond her toward the woman -of his heart, and it was their peculiar expression which drew from Marcy -the remark which he referred to later as an inspiration. - -"It's not exactly pertinent to the subject, Miss Arnold, but Herbert -Maxwell has the look this morning of having seen the Holy Grail." - -Lydia calmly turned her graceful head in the direction indicated, then -facing her interrogator, said oracularly after a pause: "The wisest men -are liable to see false visions. But provided they are happy, does it -really matter, Mr. Marcy?" - -Whereupon, without waiting for a response to this Delphic utterance, -she tapped her thoroughbred with her hunting crop and cantered forward -to take her place in the van of those about to follow the hounds. - - - - -II - - -Mrs. Walter Cole was glad to find herself alone after the hounds were -off. Without waiting to be joined by any women, who, like herself, had -come to see the start and intended to jog on the flank, cut corners and -so be in at the finish, she put her hack at a brisk canter in the -direction of a neighboring copse, seeking a bridle-path through the -woods which would bring her out not far from the club-house after a -pleasant circuit. She was indeed thrilled, and, inasmuch as she must -remain tongue-tied, she could not bear the society of her sex, and -sought solitude and reverie. And so Lydia had done it. Intimate as they -were, she had been kept guessing like the rest, and up to the moment of -the disclosure of the absorbing confidence she had never been able to -feel sure whether Lydia would or not. Lydia married! And if so? She -would have been sure to marry some day; and to marry an entirely -reputable and presentable man with four millions was, after all, an -eminently normal proceeding. - -Yet somehow it was one thing to think of her as liable to marry, another -to recognize that she was actually engaged. It was the concrete reality -of Lydia Arnold married and settled which set Mrs. Cole's nimble brain -spinning with speculative, sympathetic interest as the dry autumn leaves -cracked under the hoofs of her walking horse, to which she had given a -loose rein. Lydia had such highly evolved ideas of her own; and how -would they accord with the connubial relation? Not that she knew these -ideas in specific detail, for Lydia had never hinted at a system; but -from time to time in the relaxations of spirit intimacy there had been -droppings--flashes--innuendoes, which had set the world in a new light, -blazed the path as it were for a new feminine philosophy, and which to a -clever woman like herself, fastened securely by domestic ties to the -existing order of things, were alike entertaining and suggestive. Mrs. -Cole drew a deep breath, as once more recurred to her sundry remarks -which had provided her already that morning with material for causing no -less experienced a person than Mr. Gerald Marcy to prick up his ears. -She and her husband had set up housekeeping on a humble scale--almost -poverty from the Westfield point of view--and she remembered the -contemplative silence more eloquent than words when, three years -previous, hungry for enthusiasm, she had taken Lydia into the nursery to -admire her first-born. All her other unmarried friends had gone into -ecstasies over baby, as became true daughters of Eve. Lydia, after long -scrutiny, had simply said: - -"Well, dear, I suppose you think it's worth while." - -Thus wondering how Lydia would deal with the problems of matrimony, and -almost bursting with her secret, Mrs. Cole walked her horse until the -novelty of the revelation had worn off a little. When she left the -covert at a point suggested by the baying of the dogs, she caught a -glimpse of the hunt on the opposite side of the horizon to that where it -had disappeared from view. Assuming that the finish was likely to occur -in the meadow lands in the rear of the club-house, she proceeded to -gallop briskly across the intervening valley in the hope of anticipating -the hounds. Time, however, had slipped away faster than she supposed. At -all events, when she was still some little distance from the field which -was her destination she beheld the hounds scampering down the slope from -the woodlands beyond. A moment later the air resounded with their -yelpings as they attacked the raw meat provided as a reward for the -deceit imposed on them by the anise-seed scent. Close on their heels -came the Master and the leading spirits of the chase, and by the time -Mrs. Cole arrived the entire hunt had put in an appearance or been -accounted for, and was proceeding leisurely toward the club, gayly -comparing notes on the incidents of the run. There had been amusing -casualties. Douglas Hale's horse, having failed to clear a ditch, had -tossed its ponderous rider over its head--happily without serious -consequences--and in the act of floundering out had planted a shower of -mud on the person of Guy Perry, so that the ordinarily spruce young -broker was a sight to behold. - -The Westfield Hunt Club was one of a number of social colonies in the -eastern section of the country which in the course of the last -twenty-five years have come into being and flourished. Three principal -causes have contributed to their evolution: the increase in wealth and -in the number of people with comfortable means, the growing partiality -for outdoor athletic sports, and the tendency on the part of those who -could afford two homes to escape the stuffy air of the cities during as -many months as possible, and on the part of young couples with only one -home to set up their household gods in the country. Our ancestors of -consideration were apt to hug the cities and towns. Their summer -excursions to the seaside rarely began before July, and fathers of -families preferred to be safe at home before the brewing of the -equinoxial storm. But the towering bricks and mortar and increasing -pressure of urban life have little by little prolonged the season of -emancipation in the fresh air, and spacious modern villas, with many -bath-rooms and all the modern improvements, have supplanted the -primitive cottages of the former generation, just as the rank fields of -gay butter-cups and daisies have given place to velvety lawns, extensive -stables, and terraced Italian gardens. - -The Westfield Hunt Club was primarily a sporting colony--that is, -outdoor sport was its ruling passion. Cross-country riding had been its -first love, at a time when the free-born farmers of the neighborhood -looked askance at the introduction of what they considered dudish -British innovations. Yet it promptly offered hospitality to the rising -interest in sports of every kind, and the devotees of tennis, polo and -golf found there ample accommodation for the pursuit of their favorite -pastimes. - -At the date of our narrative the interest in tennis was at a minimum; -polo, always a sport in which none but the prosperous few can afford to -shine, had only a small following; but golf was at the height of its -fashionable ascendency. Everybody was playing golf, not only the young -and supple, the middle-aged and persevering, but every man however -clumsy and every woman however feeble or gawky who felt constrained to -follow the latest social fad as a law of his or her being. Every links -in the country was crowded with agitated followers of the royal and -ancient game, who bought clubs galore in the constant hope of acquiring -distance and escaping bunkers, and who were alternately pitied and -bullied by the attendant army of caddies, sons of the small farmers -whose views regarding British innovations had been substantially -modified by the accompanying shower of American quarters and dimes. - -Indeed, it may be said that the attitude of the country-side regarding -all the doings of the colony had undergone a gradual but complete -change. This was due to the largess and social tact of the new-comers. -To begin with, they were eager to pay roundly for the privilege of -trampling down crops and riding through fences. Having thus put matters -on a liberal pecuniary basis, they endeavored to translate grim -forbearance for business reasons into a more genial frame of mind by -horse shows with popular features, and country fairs where fat prizes -for large vegetables and free dinners bore testimony to the good-will of -the promoters. A ball at which the pink-coated male members of the club -danced with the farmers' wives and daughters, and Mrs. Andrew -Cunningham, with a corps of fair assistants, stood up with the country -swains while they cut pigeon-wings in utter gravity, was an annual sop -to local sensibilities and a bid for popular regard. Little by little -the neighborhood had thawed. Surely the new-comers must be good -fellows, if Westfield's tax receipts were growing in volume without -demur, and there was constantly increasing employment for the people not -only on the public roads, but in carpentry, plumbing, and all sorts of -jobs on the new places, besides a splendid market for their sheep and -chickens and garden produce. From Westfield's standpoint the ways of -some of these individuals with "money to burn" were puzzling, but if -grown-up folk could find amusement in chasing a little white ball across -country, the common sense of Westfield could afford to be indulgent -under existing circumstances. - -The quarters to which the hunting party now repaired in gay spirits was, -as its appearance indicated, a farm-house of ancient aspect, which had -been altered over to begin with, and been amplified later to suit the -greater requirements of the club. The rambling effect of the low-studded -rooms had been enhanced by sundry wings and annexes, the result of which -was far from convincing architecturally, but which suggested a quaint -cosiness very satisfying and precious to the original members. Progress, -reform, innovation--call it what you will--was already rife in the -colony itself, a case, it would seem, of refining gold or painting the -lily. One had only to observe the more elaborate character of the new -houses to be convinced of this. The pioneers had been content to leave -the original structures standing, and to do them over with new plumbing -and new wall-papers. Then it occurred to some one richer than his -fellows, or whose wife remembered the scriptural admonition against -putting new wine into old bottles, to pull down an ancient farm-house -and replace it with a comely modern villa. The villa was simple and an -ornament to the landscape, and though the wiseacres shook their heads -and described it as an entering wedge, the general consensus of the -colony declared it an improvement. Others followed suit, and within two -years there was a dozen of these pleasant-looking homes in the vicinity. - -But latterly a new tendency had manifested itself. Three sportsmen of -large possessions, who had decided to spend most of the year in the -country, had erected establishments on an imposing scale, very spacious, -very stately, with extensive stables and all the appurtenances befitting -a magnificent country-seat. As the owners were building simultaneously, -there had naturally been some rivalry to produce the most imposing -result. The effect of these splendors was already perceptible. Others -with large possessions were talking of invading Westfield, land was -rising in value, and it cost the colony more to entertain. Most terrible -of all to the pioneers, there was unconcealed whispering that the -club-house must come down and be replaced by a convenient modern -structure; that more commodious stables were needed; that the golf links -should be materially lengthened, and that both the annual dues and the -membership must be increased to help provide for these improvements. As -a consequence most of the old members were irate on the subject, and -Gerald Marcy was quoted as having said that to do away with the original -quarters would be an act of sacrilege. - -"Are not the rafters sacred from time-honored association?" he had -inquired in a voice trembling with emotion. - -"Principally with champagne," had been Guy Perry's comment on this -fervent apostrophe. Youth is fickle and partial to change. Guy voiced -the sentiment of the younger element in craving modern comfort and -conveniences, which could be obtained by demolishing the old -rattle-trap, as the less conservative styled it, and putting up a clean, -commodious, attractive-looking club-house. Guy himself had given out -that his firm was ready to underwrite the bonds necessary to finance all -the proposed changes. Thus it will be seen that at this period social -conditions at Westfield were in a condition of ferment and change, -although the colony was still youthful. Yet differences of opinion were -merged on this particular morning in the enjoyment of sport and the -crisp autumn weather. The returning members of the hunt found at the -club-house some of the golf players of both sexes, who had been invited -by the master of the hounds to join them at breakfast, and it was not -long before the company was seated at table. - -Everyone was hungry, and everyone seemed in good spirits. Conversation -flowed spontaneously, or, in other words, everyone seemed to be talking -at once. The host, Kenneth Post, finding himself free for a moment from -all responsibilities save to see that the waiters did their duty, -inasmuch as the woman on either side of him was exchanging voluble -pleasantries with someone else, cast a contented glance around the -mahogany. Personal badinage, as he well knew, was the current coin of -his set. The occasion on which it was absent or flagged was regarded as -dull. Subjects, ideas, theories bored his companions--especially the -women--as a social pastime. What they liked was to talk about people, to -gossip of one another's affairs or failings when separated, to discharge -at one another keen but good-humored chaff when they met. Naturally the -host was gratified by the universal chatter, for obviously his friends -were enjoying themselves. Nevertheless there seemed to be something in -the air not to be explained by the exhilaration resulting from the run -or by cocktails before luncheon. As he mused, his eyes fell on Herbert -Maxwell and he wondered. That faithful but solid equestrian was commonly -reticent and rather inert in speech, but now, with face aglow, he was -bandying words with Miss Peggy Blake and another young woman at the -same time. Post remembered that he had seen him take three drinks at the -bar, which for him was an innovation. The Master felt knowing, and -instinctively his eyes sought the countenance of Miss Arnold. It was -demure and furnished no clue to her admirer's mood, unless a faint smile -which suggested momentary content was to be regarded as an indication. - -While Kenneth Post was thus observing his guests he was recalled to more -active duties by Mrs. Andrew Cunningham, who, in her capacity of mother -of the hunt, had been placed at his right hand. Having finished her -soft-shell crab and emptied her quiver of timely shafts upon the young -man at her other elbow, she had turned to her host for a familiar chat -on the topic at that time nearest her heart. - -"I hope you're on our side, Mr. Post--that you are opposed to the new -order of things which would drive every one except millionaires out of -Westfield? Tell me that you intend to vote against pulling down this -dear old sanctuary. It's a rookery, if you like, but that's its charm. -Will anything they build take the place of it in our affections?" - -"We've had lots of good times here, of course, and I'm as fond of the -old place as anyone, but--the fact is, Mrs. Cunningham, I'm in a -difficult position. The younger men count on me in a way; it was they -who chose me master, and in a sense I'm their representative; so----" - -He paused, and allowed the ellipsis to convey an intimation of what he -might be driven to by the rising generation, to which he was more nearly -allied by age than to the older faction. - -Mrs. Cunningham looked up in his face in doughty expostulation. Her -round cheeks reminded him of ruddy but slightly withered crab-apples. -"The time has come for Andrew and me to pull up stakes, I fear. The life -here'll be spoiled. Everything is going up in price--land, servants, -marketing, horses, assessments." - -"That's the case everywhere, isn't it?" Kenneth was an easy-going -fellow, and preferred smiling acquiescence, but when taken squarely to -task he had the courage of his convictions. "The fellows wish more -comforts and facilities. There are next to no bathing accommodations at -present, and everything is cramped, and--and really it's so, if one -looks dispassionately--fusty." - -"I adore the fustiness." - -"Wait until you see the improvements. Mark my words, six months after -they are finished nothing would induce you to return to the old order -of things. We're sure of the money; the loan has been underwritten by a -syndicate." - -Mrs. Cunningham groaned. "Exactly. So has everything in Westfield, to -judge by appearances. The palaces erected by the Douglas Hales, the -Marburys, and Mr. Gordon Wallace have given the death-blow to simple -ways, and we shall soon be in the grip of a plutocracy. The original -band of gentlemen farmers who came here to get close to nature and to -one another are undone, have become back numbers, and"--she lowered her -voice to suit the exigencies--"in case Lydia Arnold accepts Herbert -Maxwell, she will not rest until she has something more imposing and -gorgeous than anything yet." - -Kenneth eagerly took advantage of the opportunity to divert the -emphasis to that ever-interesting speculation. - -"Have you any light to throw on the burning problem?" he asked. - -The mother of the hunt shook her head. "Mrs. Cole said to me only -yesterday, 'I've tried to make up my mind for her by putting myself in -her place and endeavoring to decide what conclusion I, with her -characteristics, would come to, and I find myself still wobbling, -because she's Lydia, and he's what he is, which would be eminently -desirable for some women, but----'" - -A sudden hush around the table prevented the conclusion of this -philosophic utterance. The sportsman of whom she was speaking had risen -with a brimming glass of champagne in one hand and was accosting the -master of the hounds. A general thrill of expectancy succeeded the -hush. What was he going to say? Speeches were not altogether unknown at -Westfield hunt breakfasts, but they were not apt to be so impromptu, nor -the contribution of such a negative soul as Herbert Maxwell. Gerald -Marcy, sitting next to Mrs. Cole, was prompted to repeat his observation -of the morning. "I was right," he whispered. "He has seen the Holy -Grail." - -"Wait--just wait," she answered tensely. _She_ knew what was going to -happen, and as her dark eyes vibrated deftly from Herbert's face to -Lydia's and back again, she longed for two pairs that she might not for -an instant lose the expression on either. Meanwhile the host had rapped -on the table and was saying encouragingly: - -"Our friend Mr. Herbert Maxwell desires to make a few remarks." - -"Hear--hear!" cried Douglas Hale raucously. His fall had obviously -dulled the nicety of his instincts, for everyone else was too curious to -utter a word--too rapt to invade the interesting silence. - -Maxwell had worn the air of a demi-god when he rose. A wave of -self-consciousness doubtless obliterated the introductory phrases which -he had learned by heart, for after a moment's painful silence he -suddenly blurted out: - -"I'm the happiest man in the world, and I want you all to know it." - -Here was the kernel of the whole matter. What better could he have said? -What more was there left to say? The riddle was solved, and the suspense -which had hung over Westfield like a cloud for many months was -dissolved in a rainbow of romance. There was no need of names; everybody -understood, and a shout of delight followed. Every woman in the room -shrieked her congratulations to the bride-to-be, and those nearest her -got possession of her person. Miss Peggy Blake was the nearest and hence -the first. - -"You dear thing! It's just splendid; the most intensely exciting thing -which ever happened!" she cried, throwing her arms around Lydia's neck. -In the embrace her hair, which had become loose during the run, fell -about her ears, and Guy Perry had to get down on his knees to find the -gilt hair-pins. There was a babel of superlatives, and delirious -feminine laughter; the men wrung the happy lover's hands or patted him -on the back. - -When the turmoil subsided Maxwell was still standing. Like St. Michael -over the prostrate dragon, he had planted his feet securely for once in -his life on the necks of the serpents Diffidence and Repression. He put -out his hand to invite silence. - -"I ask you to drink to the happiness of the loveliest woman in creation. -When a man worships a woman as I do her, and she has done him the honor -to plight him her troth, why shouldn't he bear witness to his love and -blazon her charms and virtues to the stars? God knows I'm going to make -her happy, if I can! To the happiness of my future wife, Miss Lydia -Arnold!" - -"All up!" cried the master, and as the company rose under the spell of -love's fervid invocation, he added authoritatively, "No heel taps!" - -As they drained their glasses and were in the act of sitting down, Guy -Perry conveyed the cordial sentiment of all present toward the proposer -of the toast and lover-elect by beginning to troll, - - - For he's a jolly good fellow-- - For he's a jolly good fellow. - - -Under cover of the swelling song Mrs. Walter Cole, fluttering in her -seat, and with her eyes fastened on Lydia's countenance, felt the need -of taking Gerald Marcy into her confidence. - -"I just wonder what she thinks of it. His letting himself go like that -is rather nice; but it isn't at all in her style. If she is truly in -love with him, it doesn't matter. But there she sits with that -inscrutable smile, perfectly serene, but not in the least worked up, -apparently. Our embraces didn't even ruffle her hair." - -"He has been repressing himself--been on his good behavior for years, -poor fellow," murmured Marcy. - -"I tell you I like his calling her the loveliest woman in creation and -thinking it. Such guileless fervor is much too rare nowadays. But what -effect will it have on Lydia, who knows she isn't? That is what is -troubling me. Unless she is deeply smitten, won't it bore her?" - -The question was but the echo of her spirit's wonder; she did not expect -a categorical response. Whatever good thing Gerald Marcy was meditating -in reply was nipped in the bud by an appeal to him for "Aunt Dinah's -Quilting Party" as a continuation of the outburst of song. He felt -obliged to comply, and yet was nothing loth, as it was one of the most -popular in his repertory, and was adapted to his sweet if somewhat -spavined tenor voice. - - - In the skies the bright stars glittered, - On the bank the pale moon shone, - And 'twas from Aunt Dinah's quilting party - I was seeing Nellie home. - - -So he sang with melodious precision, accompanying his performance with -that slight exaggeration of chivalric manner which distinguished the -rendering of his ditties. The words just suited the sensibilities of the -company, combining feeling with banter, and in full-voiced unison they -caught up the refrain: - - - I was seeing Nellie ho-o-me-- - I was seeing Nellie ho-o-me, - And 'twas from Aunt Dinah's quilting party - I was seeing Nellie home. - - -Laughing feminine eyes shot merry glances in the direction of Lydia, -and the red-coated sportsmen lifted their glasses in grandiloquent -apostrophe of the affianced pair. Andrew Cunningham, resplendent in a -canary-colored waistcoat with fine red bars, was heard to remark -confidentially, after ordering another whiskey and soda, that the -festivities which were certain to follow in the wake of this engagement -would add five pounds to his weight, which it had taken him two months -of Spartan abstemiousness to reduce three. - -Erect and sportsmanlike, Gerald continued, after an impressive sweep of -his hand to promote silence: - - - On my arm her light hand rested, - Rested light as o-o-cean's foam, - And 'twas from Aunt Dinah's quilting party - I was seeing Nellie home. - - -It was a red-letter day not only for the master of the hounds but for -Westfield's entire colony. Conjecture was at an end; the love-god had -triumphed; the announcement was a fitting wind-up to the exhilarating -hunting season. Yet amid the general congratulation and optimism some -philosophic souls like Mrs. Walter Cole did not forbear to wonder what -was to be the sequel. - - - - -III - - -Precise consideration by Lydia of her feelings for her betrothed--and -presently her husband, as they were married in the following -January--were rendered superfluous for the time being by the worship -which he lavished upon her. There were so many other things to think of: -first her engagement ring, which called forth ejaculations of envious -admiration from her contemporaries; then her trousseau, the costumes of -her bridesmaids, the details of the ceremony and the wedding breakfast, -and the important question whether the honeymoon was to be spent in -Europe. There was never any doubt as to this in Lydia's mind. After -deliberation she had decided on a winter passage by the Mediterranean -route to Nice and Cannes, followed by a summer in the Tyrol and -Switzerland, with a fortnight in Paris to repair the ravages in her -wardrobe made by changing fashion. It must not be understood that -Maxwell demurred to this attractive programme. He merely intimated that -if he remained at home and demonstrated what he called his serious side, -he would probably receive a nomination for the Legislature in the -autumn; that the party managers had predicted as much; and that the -favorable introduction into politics thus obtained might lead to -Congress or a foreign mission, as he had the means to live up to either -position worthily. - -Lydia listened alertly. "I should like you to go as ambassador to Paris -or London some day, of course, but to serve in the Legislature now -would scarcely conduce to that, Herbert. I've set my heart on going -abroad--I've never been but once, you know--and it's just the time to go -when we are building our two houses. Where should we live if we stayed -at home? The sensible plan is to store our presents, buy some tapestries -and old furniture on the other side, and come back in time to get the -autumn hunting at Westfield and inaugurate our two establishments." - -This settled the matter. The only real uncertainty had been whether she -did not prefer a trip around the world instead. But that would take too -long. She was eager to figure as the mistress of the most stately modern -mansion and the most consummate country house which money and -architectural genius could erect. These two houses were perhaps the most -engrossing of all among the many concerns which led her to postpone -precise analysis of her feelings to a period of greater leisure. That is -the exact quality of her love--whether it were eighteen carat or not, to -adopt a simile suggested to her by her wedding-ring. That she loved -Herbert sufficiently well to marry him was the essential point; and it -seemed futile to play hide-and-seek with her own consciousness over the -abstract proposition whether she could have loved someone else better, -especially as there were so many immediately pressing matters to -consider that both her physician and Herbert had warned her she was -liable, if not prudent, to fall a victim to that lurking ailment, -nervous prostration. - -It was certainly no slight responsibility to select the lot in town -which seemed to combine most advantages as the site for a residence. The -matter of the country house was much simpler, for who could doubt that -the ideal location was an expanse of undulating country, higher than the -rest of the neighborhood, known as Norrey's Farm? These fifty acres, -with woods appurtenant, were reputed to be out of the market unless to a -single purchaser. Many a pioneer had picked out Norrey's Knoll as his -choice, only to be thwarted by the owner with the assertion that he must -buy the whole farm or could have none. Later would-be purchasers had -recoiled before the price, which had kept not merely abreast but had -galloped ahead of current valuations, until it had become a by-word in -the colony that Farmer Norrey would bite his own nose off if he were -not careful. But the shrewd rustic was more than vindicated by the -upshot. Lydia, from the moment when she first seriously thought of -Herbert Maxwell as a husband, had cast sheeps' eyes at this stately -property, and within a short period after the engagement was announced -the title deeds passed. Rumor declared that the canny grantor had -divined that the opportunity of his life was at hand and had held out -successfully for still higher figures. But, as everybody cheerfully -remarked, ten thousand dollars more or less was but a flea-bite to -Herbert Maxwell. - -Then came the selection of the architects and divers inspections of -plans for the two establishments, which, to the joy of the bridegroom, -were interrupted by the wedding ceremony. They sailed, and their -honeymoon was somewhat of a social parade. Special quarters--the most -expensive and exclusive to be had--were engaged for them in advance on -steamships and in railroad trains, in hotels and wherever they appeared. -Maxwell's manifest tender purpose was to gratify his bride's slightest -whim, and in regard to the choice of the objects on which his ready -money was to be lavished he avoided taking the initiative except when an -occasional mania seized him to buy her costly gems on the sly. Otherwise -he danced attendance on her taste, which was discriminating and -perspicuous. Lydia yearned for distinction, not extravagance; for -superlative effects, not garishness. Her eye was on the lookout in -regard to all the affairs of life, from food to the manifestations of -art, for the note which accurately expressed elegant and fastidious -comfort and gave the rebuff to every-day results or the antics of -vulgarity. - -Consequently the wedding trip after the first surprises was but a change -of scene. There were still too many absorptions for retrospective -thought and nice balancing of soul accounts. At Nice and Cannes they -found themselves in a vortex of small gayeties. While travelling, Lydia -was on the alert to pick up old tapestries, porcelain, and other works -of art; in Paris, shopping and the dressmakers left no time for anything -but a daily lesson to put the finishing touch to her French. She had -said to herself that she would draw a trial balance of her precise -emotions when she was at rest on the steamer--for Lydia by instinct was -a methodical person; but a batch of letters reciting complications in -regard to the last details on the new houses was a fresh distraction, -and the society of several engaging men on the ship another. -Nevertheless the thought that she was nearing home struck her fancy -favorably, and on the evening before they landed she eluded everybody -else to seize her husband's arm for a promenade on deck. There was -elasticity in her step as she said, "Won't it be fun to be at Westfield -again, Herbert? I long for a good run with the hounds, and I'm beginning -to pine for the autumn colors and smells." - -"Yes, indeed. And we shall be settled at our own fireside at last," he -answered with a lover's animation. - -The remark recalled bothersome considerations to Lydia's mind. She felt -sure from the contents of the last packet of correspondence that the -architect had failed to carry out her instructions in several -instances. - -"Settled?" she echoed. "If we are settled a year from now we may -consider ourselves very fortunate." - -Lydia's immediate plans met with interruption from an unexpected source. -Before the hunting season had fairly begun it was privately whispered in -Westfield circles that a stork would presently visit the new -establishment on Norrey's Farm. Open inquiries from tactless -interrogators, why the Maxwells did not follow the hounds, were answered -by the explanation that the young people had so many matters to attend -to in connection with their two houses that they had decided to postpone -hunting to another year. Later it was known that they would pass the -winter in the country, and not furnish the town house until spring. -When the baby was actually born, in February, everyone knew that it was -expected; but the advent of the infant in the flesh caused a flutter -among Lydia's immediate feminine acquaintances. As soon as the mother -was able to receive visitors, Mrs. Walter Cole came down from town to -offer her warm felicitations and incidentally to satisfy the curiosity -of those who took an interest. She had arranged to lunch after the -interview with the Andrew Cunninghams, who lived all the year round at -Westfield, and thither at the close of the visit to her intimate friend -she repaired, replete with information. It happened to be Saturday, and -the master of the house had brought down Gerald Marcy by an early train -for a winter's afternoon tramp across country, so that the two women had -only a few minutes of unreserved conversation. - -"Well, she was just as one would have expected--Lydia all over," Mrs. -Cole began with the intensity of a pent-up stream which has regained its -freedom. "She looked sweet, and everything in her room and in the -nursery was bewitching, as though she had been preparing for the event -for years and doted on it. That's just like her, of course. She bemoaned -her fate at losing the hunting season, and she has decided not to nurse -the baby. As an experienced mother," continued Mrs. Cole -contemplatively, "I felt bound to remind her that there are two sides to -that question, and that I had nursed Toto and Jim not only because -Walter insisted on it, but to give the children the benefit of the doubt -as to any possible effect on character from being suckled by a stranger. -But she had thought it all out, and had her arguments at her fingers' -ends. She declared it a case of Anglo-Saxon prejudice, and that every -Frenchwoman of position sends her babies to a foster-mother. Of course -it _is_ a bother, and frightfully confining, but my husband wouldn't -hear of it, though half the mamas can't satisfy their babies anyway." - -Mrs. Cunningham nodded understandingly. "I daresay it's just as well. -And of course she regards the rest of us as old-fashioned. But tell me -about the baby." - -Mrs. Cole laughed. "You ought to have heard Lydia on the subject. She -talks of it in the most impersonal way, as though it belonged to someone -else or were a wedding present. I never cared much for babies before I -was married, but could not endure anyone who wouldn't make flattering -speeches about mine. Lydia's is a dear little thing as they go, and has -a fascinating wardrobe already, and I think she is rather devoted to it -in her secret soul, but one of the first things she said to me--before I -could get in a single compliment--was, 'She's the living image of -Grandma Maxwell, Fannie. She has her mouth and nose.' And the -embarrassing part was that it's true. The moment Lydia called my -attention to it I saw. Her eagle maternal eye had detected what the -ordinary mother would have failed to perceive. But it's Grandma Maxwell -to the life. 'Why evade the truth?' remarked Lydia after one of her -deliberate pauses. 'I shall name her for her, and I can discern in -advance that she will never be a social success.'" - -"Poor little thing!" murmured Mrs. Cunningham. Such an anathema so early -in life was certainly heart-rending. - -Mrs. Cole put her head on one side like an arch bird by way of -reflective protest. "It sounds dreadful, of course, but remember she's -Lydia. What she will really do will be to metamorphose her, body and -soul, so that by the time she is eighteen there will not be one trace of -Maxwell visible to the naked eye. See if I'm not right," she said with -the gusto of a brilliant inspiration which seemed to her a logical -defence of her friend. - -The arrival of the men interrupted the dialogue, but the general topic -was presently resumed from another point of view. Not many minutes had -elapsed after they sat down to luncheon before Gerald Marcy hazarded the -observation that, prophecies and innuendoes to the contrary -notwithstanding, events in the Maxwell household appeared to have -followed the course of nature. Mrs. Cole, to whom this remark was -directly addressed, ignored the sly impeachment of her abilities as a -seer, and, having finished her piece of buttered toast, said blandly: - -"I think Lydia is very happy." - -"I felt sure she would be tamed," continued Marcy with a tug at his -mustache. "I look to see her become a model of the domestic virtues." - -"Don't be too sure that she is tamed, Gerald," said Mrs. Cunningham. -"Lydia is Lydia." Perhaps the knowledge that she had been longing in -vain for years for a child of her own gave the cue to this slightly -brusk comment. - -"Lydia will never be exactly like the rest of us; that's her -peculiarity--virtue--what shall I call it?" interposed Mrs. Cole, -looking round the table with a philosophic air. "The rest of us demur -at conventions, but accept them in the end. She follows what she deems -the truth. I don't say that she is always right or that she doesn't do -queer things," she added by way of conservative qualification of her -bubbling encomium. - -"And how about Maxwell?" asked Andrew Cunningham, who had seemed -temporarily lost in the contemplation of his lobster salad so long as -any of that lusciously prepared viand remained on his plate. "Infatuated -as ever, I suppose," he added, sitting back in his chair and exposing -benignly his broad expanse of neckcloth and fancy check waistcoat. - -"Yes, and he ought to be, surely. But Lydia has a rival in the daughter -of the house," answered Mrs. Cole, reinspired by the inquiry. "He came -in just as I was leaving, and is almost daft on the subject of the -baby. If Lydia's ecstasy is somewhat below the normal, he more than -makes up for the deficiency. There never was such a proud parent. He -just 'chortled in his joy.' He discerns in her already all the graces -and virtues, and would like to do something at once--he doesn't know -exactly what--to bring them to the attention of an unappreciative world. -If it were a boy, he could put his name down on the waiting lists at the -clubs, but as she is only a girl, he must content himself with hanging -over her crib for the present." - -"Only a girl!" echoed Marcy. "Born with a golden spoon in her mouth, an -heiress to all the virtues and graces, and predestined doubtless, like -her mother, to rest her dainty foot upon the neck of man. Nevertheless, -as I have already prophesied, I am inclined to think that the yoke--now -a double yoke--will not bear too severely on Maxwell, though it may not -yield him the bliss which we unregenerate bachelors are wont to -associate with the ideal marital relation." - -"Hear--hear!" exclaimed Andrew Cunningham. "You need some further liquid -refreshment after that silver-tongued sophistry, Gerald.--Mary," he said -to the maid, "pass the whiskey and soda to Mr. Marcy." - -Mrs. Cole put her head on one side. "I have my doubts whether the ideal -marital relation is a modern social possibility--the strictly ideal such -as you bachelors mean," she added, feeling, doubtless, as the wife of a -man to whom she had described herself in heart-to-heart talks with other -women--not many, for she eschewed the subject ordinarily as sacred--as -deeply attached, that this homily on wedlock needed a qualifying tag. - -But May Cunningham was not in the mood to become a party to even so -tempered an imputation on connubial happiness. "Speak for yourself, -Fannie," she said sturdily. "Ideals or no ideals, Andrew and I trot in -double harness better than any single animal of my acquaintance." - -"Listen to the old woman, God bless her!" exclaimed the master of the -house, raising his tumbler and smiling at his better-half with -chivalrous expansiveness. - -Mrs. Cole was a little nettled at Mrs. Cunningham's obtuseness--wilful -obtuseness, it seemed to her. As though the subtle social problem -suggested by her was to be solved by a reference to the homely affection -of this amiable but limited couple! She sighed and murmured, "Everyone -knows, my dear, that you and Andrew are as happy as the day is long. But -I'm afraid that you don't understand exactly what I meant." - -Mrs. Cunningham compressed her lips ominously. She felt that she -understood perfectly well, and that it was simply another case of Fannie -Cole's nonsense. But any retort she may have been meditating was averted -by the timely and genial inspiration of her husband. - -"One thing is certain," he said: "we all know that our Gerald is the -ideal bachelor." - -This assertion called forth cordial acquiescence from both the ladies, -and turned the current of the conversation into a smoother channel. The -subject of the remark bowed decorously. - -"In this company I am free to admit that I sometimes sigh in secret for -a happy home. Yet even venerable bachelorhood has its compensations. By -the way," he added, "our colony at Westfield is likely to have an -addition to its stud of bachelors. I hear that Harry Spencer is coming -home." - -"Harry Spencer? How interesting," cried the two women in the same -breath. - -"The fascinator," continued Mrs. Cole with slow, sardonic articulation. - -"To break some other woman's heart, I suppose," said Mrs. Cunningham. - -"And yet it is safe to say that he will be received with open arms by -your entire sex, including the present company," remarked Gerald with a -tug at his mustache. - -The sally was received with pensive silence as a deduction apparently -not to be gainsaid. - -"He is very agreeable," said Mrs. Cunningham flatly. - -"And extremely handsome," said Mrs. Cole. "Not the type of manly beauty -which would cause my mature heart to flutter, but dangerous to the -youthful imagination. He used to look like a handsome pirate, and if he -had whispered honeyed words to me instead of to Laura--who knows?" - -"Poor Laura!" - -"They had neither of them a cent; there was nothing for him to do but -withdraw. And yet there is no doubt he broke her heart, though there is -consumption in her family." Mrs. Cole knit her brows over this attempt -on her part to formulate complete justice. - -"He's a woman's man," said Andrew Cunningham. He had stepped to the -mantel-piece to fill his pipe, and having uttered this fell speech, he -lit it and smoked for some moments in silence with his back to the -cheerful wood fire before proceeding. No one had seen fit to contradict -him. The gaps between his assertions and the subsequent explanations -thereof were expected and rarely interrupted. "He does everything -well--rides, shoots, plays rackets, golf, cards--is infernally -good-looking, as you say, has a pat speech and a flattering eye for -every woman he looks at, and yet somehow he has always struck me as a -_poseur_. I wouldn't trust him in a tight place, though he prides -himself on his sporting blood. It may be prejudice on my part. Gerald -likes him, I believe, because he is a keen rider and always has a good -mount. He always has the best of everything going, but what does he live -on anyway?" - -"Wild oats, perhaps," suggested Marcy. But he hastened to atone for -this levity by adding, "He had a little money from his mother, while it -lasted, and just after he and Miss Wilford drifted apart, I am told that -he followed a tip from Guy Perry on copper stocks and cleaned up enough -to enable him to travel round the world." - -"Poor Laura!" interjected Mrs. Cole. "What a pity he didn't get a tip -earlier!" - -"It wasn't enough to marry on," said Marcy, "and it's probably mostly -gone by this time." - -"That's the sort of thing I complain of," exclaimed Cunningham. "I'm no -martinet in morals, Heaven knows, but I always feel a little on my guard -with fellows who live by their wits and spend like princes. Confound it, -you know it isn't quite respectable even in a free country." Andrew -spoke with a wag of his head as though he expected to be adjudged an old -fogy for this conservative utterance. - -"He's an attractive fellow on the surface anyway," answered Marcy after -a pause, "and will be an addition from the hunting standpoint. And--give -the devil his due, Andrew--if he was looking for money only, there were -several heiresses he might have married. That would have made him -irreproachable at once." - -Mrs. Cole drew a long breath. "Perfectly true, Mr. Marcy. I never -thought of it before. Harry Spencer doesn't look at a woman twice unless -he admires her, no matter how rich she is. He could have married -several, of course, if he had tried." - -"Dozens. That's the humiliating part of it," assented Mrs. Cunningham. - -"When he is ready to settle down that's what he'll do--pick out some -woman with barrels of money," said Andrew. Having once got a proposition -in his head he was wont to stick to it tenaciously, like a puppy to a -root. - -"You misjudge him--you misjudge him!" cried Mrs. Cole eagerly. "He won't -do anything of the kind. He will never marry any woman unless she has -money--or he has; that I'm ready to admit. But, on the other hand, he'll -never ask anyone to marry him unless he loves her for herself alone, -and--and," she continued with a gasp born of the thrill which the -definiteness of her insight caused her, "there are very few women in the -world whom he is liable to fall in love with. That's what makes him so -interesting. He is polite to us all, but the majority of women bore him -at heart." - -Marcy laughed. "A masterly diagnosis," he said. "And now that he has -seen the world and is returning heart-free, so far as we know, there -will naturally be curiosity as to how he will bear the ordeal of a fresh -contact with native loveliness." - -"Exactly," said the two women together, and with an engaging frankness -which quite overshadowed the grunt by which the master of the house -indicated his suspicious dissent from this exposition of character. - - - - -IV - - -Harry Spencer had been travelling nearly three years. Naturally, he -found some changes and some new faces at Westfield. Concerning the -former he was becomingly appreciative. He promptly ranged himself on the -side of progress, admired the new club-house and the new establishments -in the neighborhood, and evinced a willingness to take an active part in -the enlarged energies of the club. During his peregrinations in foreign -lands he had visited the St. Andrew's golf links, and he had views -regarding bunkers and other features of the game which he was prepared -to advocate. When he had left home the bicycle was all the rage, and -some portion of his journeyings had been on an up-to-date machine. But -he found now that the fashionable portion of the community had dropped -this craze, and that to ride a "wheel" was beginning to be considered a -bore except as a means of getting from one place to another. The fever -of golf was rampant instead, and had reached the stage where its -votaries were almost delirious in their devotion, notably the people -most unfitted to play the game, and who had taken it up in order to be -in fashion. During the spring and summer following his return the -improved links at Westfield was crowded with players of every grade -whose proficiency was generally in reverse proportion to the number of -clubs they carried. - -Soon after the season had fairly opened and the greens were in good -order the lately returned wanderer found himself one morning engaged in -giving a lesson in the royal and ancient game to Miss Peggy Blake, who -had a severe attack of the disease and promised to be a proficient -pupil, for Dobson, the professional at the Hunt Club, had declared that -she had a free swing and could follow through as well as most men. The -trouble at the moment was that, after taking a free swing, she either -failed to hit the ball altogether or hit it off at some distressing -angle. As she explained volubly to everybody, until within a week she -had been making screaming brassie shots which carried a hundred and -fifty yards, but had suddenly lost her game completely. Harry had kindly -offered himself as a coach, a delightful proposition to the blithe young -woman, especially as Dobson was engaged for the time being in -superintending the primary and elephantine efforts of Miss Ella Marbury, -the stout maiden sister of Wagner Marbury, the Western -multi-millionnaire and proprietor of one of the new neighboring palaces -so obnoxious to Mrs. Cunningham. Miss Peggy was more than pleased to -have for an hour or two the uninterrupted companionship of this -good-looking and redoubtable gallant, whose attentions were to be -regarded as a feather in her cap, and who would doubtless be able to -tell her what she was doing wrong. - -Hers was one of the new faces, and Harry had given his following to -understand that he admired her spirited and comely personality. "Miss -West Wind" he had christened her genially, and the epithet had spread -with the rumor that he had noticed her. Yet it was tacitly understood -that he had no intention of interfering with the suit of his friend Guy -Perry, who was supposed to be well in the lead of the other pursuers of -the breezy maiden. Yet, though he sought to give the impression that his -favor in this case was merely an artistic tribute and that he still -walked scatheless in the world of women, he was glad of an opportunity -to stroll over the links in her society. She would entertain him. -Besides, she was a fluent talker, and he could count on her retailing -for his edification more or less of the current history of Westfield -written between the lines, which was only to be picked up gradually by -one who had been prevented by absence from personal observation. - -It was a very simple matter to detect the trouble with his companion's -stroke. - -"You don't keep your eye on the ball, Miss Blake. That's the whole -trouble with you. Anyone can see that." - -Peggy looked incredulous. "If there is one special thing more than -another which I try to bear constantly in mind, it is to keep my eye on -the ball. Do I really take it off, Mr. Spencer? Of course you must know. -There are so many other things to remember, but I did think I was -completely disciplined on that point. Watch me now." - -Thereupon she proceeded to execute a dashing stroke, her evident -standard being to carry her club through with such velocity as to bring -the head round her left shoulder and cause her to execute a pirouette -like the pictures of the golfing girls in the magazines. The ball flew -off at a tangent and narrowly missed her own caddy. - -"How rotten!" she murmured. "I had both my eyes glued on the ball, and -you see what happened. And only a week ago I was driving like a streak." -Her expletive was merely the popular phrase of the day by which golden -youth of both sexes was apt to express even trivial dissatisfaction. - -She was a pathetic figure of distress. Her exertions had heightened her -color so that it suggested the poppy rather than the rose, and was not -unlike the hue of her trig golfing garment. She swept back a stray -ringlet which had escaped from under her hat. "You see I have lost my -game utterly, Mr. Spencer." - -Harry laughed. "You were looking at me out of the corners of your eyes -that time. Lower your lids until you exaggerate the modest maiden and -don't move your head." It was a half-deferential, half-sardonic voice -with a caressing touch, indicating temporary devotion to the -subject-matter in hand which was flattering. "Swing more easily," he -added, "and don't try to rival the Gibson girl until you recover -confidence." Then he corrected slightly her stance and the position of -her hands--all with a deft yet bantering grace of manner which soothed -and attracted her. He went through the correct motions of the stroke for -her enlightenment, and as he stood erect and supple Peggy did not -forbear to reflect that he was very handsome. How dark his hair and eyes -were! It was a bold sort of beauty, and, though he wore neither mustache -nor beard, the faintly bluish tinge of his complexion betrayed that, but -for the barber, he would have been what Mrs. Herbert Cole might have -termed an incarnate symphony in black. He appeared harmoniously -muscular. He executed the necessary movements with lithe, nervous -energy, focusing his attention tensely for the brief occasion. The -moment he lowered his club he regained his leisurely and rather indolent -demeanor. - -His pupil essayed to follow his instructions. At the third attempt the -ball sailed straight as an arrow to a moderate distance, which comforted -the performer, but she felt too nervously excited to exult. It might be -only an accident. - -"Try again," he said confidentially. "You've almost got it." - -Once more the ball shot correctly from the club. Harry stooped and -placed another on the tee. Peggy swung, then followed through with a -little of her old elasticity. It flew like a rifle bullet low and long -across the distant bunker. - -She rose on the tips of her toes as she followed its entrancing flight. -"I've got back my game," she cried jubilantly. "You've saved my life, -Mr. Spencer." She looked as though she would have been glad, had -convention permitted, to throw her arms around her benefactor's neck. -And to the true golfer it would not seem an exaggerated reward. "I've -been in the slough of despond for nearly a week, and playing worse every -day. Now I'm in the seventh heaven, and it's all your doing." - -He acknowledged the exuberant gratitude with a graceful mock heroic bow. -"I shall consider my terms. The charge should be considerable." - -Just then by the sheerest chance a white carnation which Peggy was -wearing at her throat became detached from her dress and fell to the -ground. He picked it up, and, holding it before him and looking into her -eyes, said with melodious assurance: - -"I will keep this, if I may, as my tuition fee." - -Peggy looked embarrassed and let fall her eyes, albeit not easily -disconcerted. The carnation was one from a bunch which Guy Perry had -sent her the day before, and to hand it over seemed almost an act of -treason, though they were not yet actually engaged. Yet she was -conscious that she thought this new acquaintance charming. Silence gives -consent where lovely woman is concerned. At any rate, when she looked up -he was in the act of placing it in his buttonhole. But his fingers had -paused in their work as a consequence of his arrested glance. A feminine -figure outlined on the crest of adjacent rising ground had suddenly -caught his eye. She was addressing her ball for a brassie shot, and as -he gazed it was performed with a sweeping grace of which the lack of -effort was the salient charm. - -Peggy, whose eyes had promptly followed the direction of his, vouchsafed -the desired information. - -"Mrs. Herbert Maxwell." - -"Really!" There was a shade of interest in the monosyllable, as though -the identity of some one whom he had been rather curious to meet had -been revealed to him. - -"You haven't met her?" - -"Not yet." - -"Oh, you'd like her immensely." - -The words were uttered with such naive confidence that Harry Spencer -turned away his gaze from the new attraction to survey the old. - -"How do you know?" he inquired jauntily. - -Peggy spluttered a little at this flank attack. "Oh, well, you know, -she's so awfully clever. She's different. She'd pique your curiosity -anyway," she concluded, recovering her aplomb. - -"Am I so difficult to please?" he asked sententiously. He answered the -question himself. "Yes, I admit that I am." His look of admiration, -which Peggy divined was constitutional with him on such occasions, was -best to be met by diversion. - -"I shall never be able to play golf as Lydia Maxwell does, and I've been -at it twice as long. She has only played this spring, and Dobson says -that she has a better idea of the game than any other woman. It's just -knack with her, for her balls go farther than mine and yet she makes -scarcely an exertion. You couldn't help admire her in all sorts of ways. -It has been a dreadfully quiet season for her, though, for when her baby -was six weeks old and she had sent out cards for two musical parties in -their new town house, her husband's mother, old Mrs. Maxwell, died -suddenly, and she had to go into mourning. So they went to Southern -California for February and March, and moved down here as soon as they -returned. She took lessons in golf at Los Angeles, and she beat me four -up the first time we played, even though I supposed I could give her -half a stroke." - -While he listened to this monologue, Spencer followed the progress of -the subject of it. She was playing with pretty Mrs. Baxter, but, though -her opponent was an ordinarily graceful woman, there was a deft harmony -in her movements which made Mrs. Baxter appear an unfinished person by -comparison. - -"They say the real secret is that she has an artistic temperament." The -speech was Peggy's by way of reading his thoughts and providing a -condensed and comprehensive key. - -"And her husband--what is he like? You know he has come to the surface -during my absence." - -"He hasn't it at all--I mean an artistic temperament. But he's an -awfully good sort--awfully; a true sport, and kind as can be." Peggy's -vocabulary of enthusiasm, though fundamentally native, sometimes made -reprisals on the kindred jargon of Great Britain. - -"I see. And you infer that I have an artistic temperament?" A tendency -toward challenging unexpectedness was one of Spencer's prime -manifestations with women. - -Peggy looked embarrassed. She had not bargained for such an unequivocal -piece of teasing. She put up her hand to her head to secure her escaping -comb. "I don't know you very well, of course, but I had supposed so. Yet -I'm not clever, and I dote on Lydia," she added archly. - -Harry Spencer did not have to go out of his way for an opportunity to -satisfy his curiosity by personal acquaintance with Mrs. Herbert -Maxwell. When he and his fair partner had finished the last hole and -approached the piazza of the new club-house, they found her sitting -there--one of a group of both sexes waiting for luncheon. Peggy, -radiant and prodigal of superlatives, proclaimed to one after another -that her game had come back. Wasn't it perfectly glorious?--the -loveliest thing which had ever happened. And Mr. Spencer had detected at -once what was wrong. "Just think of it, I was pressing and took my eye -off the ball," she kept reiterating, "and I never knew it. Wasn't it -dear of him?" - -One of the most characteristic features of golf is that it is not an -altruistic pastime. Everyone is feverishly absorbed by the state of his -own game, and does not care at heart a picayune for his neighbor's. At -the moment of Peggy's vociferous advent the assembled company were -talking in pairs, and each member of each pair was endeavoring to excite -the interest of his or her partner in the dialogue by glowing or -dejected narration of why his or her score was lower or higher than the -speaker's average. In some cases both were talking at once and neither -listened. Oftener, perhaps, each had asserted an innings, and the -strongest or most persistent lungs held the mastery. Miss Marbury, who -under the tutelage of Dobson had done the longest hole in 12 and the -eighteen holes in 132--five better than ever before--was bubbling over -with ecstasy and soliciting congratulations. Douglas Hale, who had -failed by one stroke to surpass his previous record of 82, was telling -hoarsely and pathetically to everyone whom he could buttonhole how it -happened. - -"At the fourteenth hole I was on the green in two and took seven for the -hole. Seven! Just think of that, seven! Five strokes on the green." As -he uttered the words with excruciating precision, he would hold up the -five fingers of his hand and shake them at his auditor. It was an -experience which would last him all day and as far into the evening as -he could find new listeners, especially if he could endeavor to take the -edge off his disappointment by Scotch and soda. - -Consequently, though everybody heard that Miss Peggy Blake had recovered -her game, and her breezy invasion caused a stir, the fact that she had -done so was of interest only because of the means by which this had been -brought to pass. It was Harry Spencer, not she, who became the cynosure -of numerous feminine eyes. If he had put Peggy onto her game, why not -them onto theirs? Peggy, mistaking the reason for the pause in the -general chatter for interest in her improvement, proceeded to rehearse -gleefully the details of her triumph for the benefit of the company. -But Douglas Hale, in no mood to be side-tracked by any such -interruption, stepped forward, and hooking his arm in Harry Spencer's, -led him apart with a mysterious "A word with you, old man." - -Having thus enforced an audience, he held forth in the low tone -appropriate to an interesting confidence. "Just now I was 58 at the end -of the thirteenth hole, and was on the green of the fourteenth in two, -and I took seven for the hole. Five puts on the green! Think of that, -five!" he whispered hoarsely, and shook his five fingers in Harry's -face. "Seven for the hole. And I finished in 82. Tied my own record. -Wasn't that the meanest streak of luck a man ever had? Five puts, and -two of them rimmed the cup." - -His victim listened indulgently. The firm grip on his arm precluded -escape. - -"You must learn to put, my dear fellow." - -"That's the most sickening part of it. I made every other put. Let me -tell you--you remember the slope of the fourteenth green? Well, I----" - -Realizing what he was in for, Harry took advantage of a momentary pause -on the part of his torturer for the purpose of lighting a cigarette. His -observing eyes had noticed that Mrs. Maxwell was standing apart from the -other women who were within range of Miss Blake's jubilant reiteration. -He wrenched himself free from Douglas's clutch. - -"It was a case of downright hard luck, and now, in return for my -heart-felt sympathy and for listening to your tale of woe, introduce me -to Mrs. Herbert Maxwell." - -Puffing at his half-lighted cigarette, Douglas Hale reached out to -recover his lost grip. "Wait a minute. You haven't heard half. I will -show you just how it happened." - -Spencer intercepted the reaching fingers and grabbed the offender's -wrist, and said, with jocund firmness, "I don't care a tinker's dam how -it happened, Douglas, and I tell you you can't put. Introduce me to Mrs. -Maxwell." - -This quip caused the egotist to draw himself up stiffly. He was proof -against hints and ordinary recalcitration, but such an unmistakable -rebuff was not to be ignored; that is, he could not with proper -self-respect continue the harangue on which he was bent. - -"Of course if you don't care to hear how it happened, I won't tell -you." So saying, Douglas suffered himself to be conveyed the necessary -few steps, and performed the ceremony of introduction. - -Lydia let her eyes rest with keen but interested scrutiny on this -new-comer. He was a boon at the moment, for she had taken the gauge of -everybody at Westfield, and was conscious that neither her heart nor her -brain was satisfied. She craved novelty and true aesthetic appreciation. -Did anyone really understand her? Not even Fannie Cole, who came the -nearest to divining her hatred of the commonplace and her dread of being -bored. But Fannie, though discerning, chose to remain a slave to the -canons of conformity. That morning, in her looking-glass she had asked -herself the question, "Why did I ever marry Herbert Maxwell?" But she -had asked it with no malice aforethought, merely as one who, with -leisure to take account of stock, foots up his assets and puts the -question, "Am I solvent?" The interrogation was simply searching and -contemplative. The answer had been prompt, and in a measure assuring. -"Because it gave me everything I need." Yet, somehow, there remained a -cloud upon her spirit. Was this all? Did life offer nothing further? - -"We make a fuss and circumstance about our sports," she said. - -"They do creak." - -It was agreeable to be comprehended so promptly. "It isn't sport for -sport's sake, but for the sake of the cups and because it's the thing." - -"And above all to beat the other fellow. That's the national creed. It's -so in everything--competition. We are brought up from childhood to -consider that winning is the thing which counts. We must win at any cost -at foot-ball or trade, in affairs or in love." - -She made one of her little pauses. Decidedly he was a kindred spirit and -to be cultivated. "I am an exotic then." - -"How so?" - -"Competition--the national creed--does not interest me." - -"Because you win so easily. I watched you play this morning. You will -have no rival of your own sex here." - -She ignored the tribute; she knew that already; it was the thesis which -interested her. - -"It bores me--winning, I mean. Golf, for the time being, is a delight." - -He gave her a pirate glance, as though to search her soul, and uttered -one of his bold sallies: - -"That is, your doll is stuffed with----" - -She checked him, shaking her head. "Oh, no. That is, I think not. I have -never cut her open. I had in mind something quite different." Her dainty -face grew pensive as she sought the exact phrase to interpret her -psychology. "I have never had to struggle for anything. It has always -come to me." - -"Exactly." His note of emphasis reminded her that her words were, after -all, merely an indirect echo of his diagnosis. "But your time is sure to -come," he asserted confidently. - -The smile of incredulity which curved her lips betrayed entertainment -also. "In what field?" she inquired. - -Spencer shrugged his shoulders. "I am a student of character, not a -soothsayer." - -"And then?" she queried. - -"You will be like the rest of us--only more so. You could not bear to -lose at any cost." - -What might have seemed effrontery in some men was but a piquant -challenge in his mouth, so speciously was it uttered. Lydia was not -unaccustomed to men whose current coin was sardonic sallies, as witness -the veteran Gerald Marcy. But this was something different. Her soul had -been suddenly pitchforked by a professor of anatomy and held up under -her nose with the caveat that she was ignorant of the mainsprings of her -own behavior. It was impudence, but novel, and she forgave it with the -reflection that he would live to eat his gratuitous deductions, which -would be the neatest form of vengeance. - -[Illustration: The smile of incredulity which curved her lips betrayed -entertainment also.] - - - - -V - - -Before many weeks had elapsed it began to be whispered at Westfield that -Harry Spencer and Mrs. Herbert Maxwell were seeing more or less of each -other. They appeared together not infrequently on the golf links; it was -known that he was giving her lessons at her own house in bridge whist, -the new game of cards; they had been met walking in the lanes; and--most -significant item, which caused the colony to prick up its ears and ask, -"What does this mean?"--two youthful anglers had encountered them -strolling in the lonely woods skirting distant Duck Pond. This last -discovery, which was early in September, led to the conclusion that, -under cover of her mourning, Lydia must have been seeing more of him -than anyone had imagined. Yet, even then, though alert brains indulged -in knowing innuendoes, Mrs. Cole's epigrammatic estimate of the matter -was generally accepted as sound: - -"A woman in mourning for her mother-in-law requires diversion." - -It seemed probable that Lydia was amusing herself, and that Harry -Spencer was playing the tame cat for their mutual edification. The -possibility that he had been caught at last and that she was luring him -on that she might lead him like a bear with a ring through his nose, and -thus avenge her sex for his past indifference, was regarded as unlikely -but delightful. That Lydia was enamored of her admirer, and that they -both cared, was not seriously entertained until many circumstances -seemed to point to such a deduction. Westfield was not wholly without -experience in intimacies between husbands or wives and a third party. -But only rarely had there been fire as well as smoke in these cases. And -even then there had never been up to this time an open scandal. Matters -had been patched up or the veil of diplomatic convention had been drawn -so skilfully over them that most people were left in the dark as to the -real truth. Almost invariably the intimacies in question reminded one of -the antics of horses with too high action who had all the show but -little of the quality of runaways; and the preferences manifested were -not always inconsistent with conjugal devotion. Consequently, everyone -took for granted that this was only another "fake" instance of family -disarrangement, entered on to pass the time and to provide that -appearance of evil which the American woman seems to find a satisfying -substitute for the real article. As Mrs. Cole once remarked in defending -the propensity to Gerald Marcy, if one's vanity is flattered, why should -one go farther? - -The buzz of curiosity was stimulated during the ensuing autumn by a -variety of fresh and compromising rumors. Consequently, when at a -golfing luncheon party given at the club by Mrs. Gordon Wallace in -October, Mrs. Baxter, whose blue eyes always suggested innocence, asked -in her demure way what the latest news was from "The Knoll," every -tongue had something new to impart. The most sensational as well as the -latest piece of information was provided by Mrs. Cunningham, who -repeated it with the air of one whose faith had at last received a -serious shock. - -"She sat with him on the piazza at 'The Knoll' until three o'clock -night before last. Her husband came home at eleven and requested her to -go to bed, but there they stayed without him. I call that pretty bad, -even if she is Lydia. I wonder how long Herbert Maxwell will permit this -sort of thing to go on. Even the worm will turn." - -There was an eloquent silence, which was broken by a repetition of Mrs. -Cole's whitewashing epigram as to Lydia's need of diversion. Its -cleverness and value as a generalization caused a ripple of amusement, -but it fell flat as a specific. Old Mrs. Maxwell had been dead many -months, yet matters were more disconcerting than ever. Stout Miss -Marbury's question was regarded as much more to the point: - -"Who saw them, Mrs. Cunningham?" - -May Cunningham would have preferred to remain silent on this score, but -she perceived that the authenticity of her story was dependent on direct -testimony. It was a luncheon of eight. She glanced around the table in -an appealing manner as much as to say, "This really is not to be spoken -of," and said laconically, "There was another couple present." Then, as -though she feared on second thought that the wrong persons might be -fixed on, she continued: "Neither of them were married. They are -supposed to be engaged, and Lydia acted as their chaperone on the piazza -while they took a moonlight ride together." - -"Who can they have been?" murmured some one sweetly, and there was a -general giggle. - -"You wormed it out of me," said Mrs. Cunningham doggedly. "You demanded -my credentials. But it doesn't matter about those two, of course, for -they're in love." - -"How about the others?" ventured Mrs. Baxter. - -"Truly, Rachel, you shock me," answered Mrs. Cunningham sternly. "It's -no joking matter. It's a very serious situation for this colony, in my -opinion. People who don't know us do not think any too well of us -already because some of us smoke cigarettes and go in for hunting and an -open-air life instead of trying to reform somebody. But this will give -the gossips a real handle. Besides, it's disreputable." - -"But I really wished to know," murmured Mrs. Baxter. "Does either of -them care? And if so, which?" - -"My own belief," interjected Mrs. Cole, "as I said just now, is that -there's nothing in it--nothing serious. Lydia is simply catering to her -aesthetic side, and everyone knows Harry Spencer. It seems to me -personally that she has gone too far, but that is a question of taste, -and, provided her husband doesn't complain, why need we?" Thereupon she -popped into her mouth a luscious-looking coffee cream confection and -munched it ruminantly. - -"It has become a question of morals," asserted Mrs. Cunningham. "If -their relations are what we don't believe them to be, it's a disgrace to -Westfield. If they are simply amusing themselves, it's heartless, and I -know what I would do if I were Herbert Maxwell." - -"So do I," exclaimed Mrs. Reynolds, a spirited young matron with the -breath of life in her nostrils, yet, as someone once remarked of her, -notoriously devoted to her lord and master. - -"Just what my husband said," added Mrs. Miller, a bride of a year's -standing, which, considering nothing whatever had been said, provoked a -smile and brought a blush to the countenance of the speaker, which -deepened as Mrs. Baxter with her accustomed innocence asked: - -"What would you do?" - -"Pick out the most seductive-looking woman I could set my eyes on, -Rachel dear, and"--blurted out Mrs. Reynolds pungently. As she paused an -instant seeking her phrase, Mrs. Cunningham interjected: - -"Sh! We understand. That might bring her to her senses." - -"But Herbert Maxwell never would," said Mrs. Cole, reaching for another -sweetmeat. - -"I'm not so sure about that," retorted Mrs. Cunningham. "He's faithful -as a mastiff, but goad him too far and he may prove to be a slumbering -lion, in my opinion." - -"That wouldn't suit Lydia at all," responded Mrs. Cole. The thesis -interested her. "She takes for granted, I presume, his unswerving -fidelity. Besides, he would consider it morally wrong. I shall be very -much surprised, my dear, if you are not mistaken." - -"I'm not a married woman," suggested Miss Marbury, "but I think he ought -to put a stop in some way or other to the present condition of things, -and that it is his fault if he doesn't." - -A murmur of acquiescence showed that this was the general sentiment, at -which point the discussion of the topic was brought to a close by the -hostess's rising from the table--that is, discussion by the party as a -whole. After they had repaired to the general sitting-room--that neutral -apartment in the club which was appropriated to the use of both -sexes--the subject still claimed the attention of the groups into which -the company subdivided itself. Here Mrs. Baxter found an opportunity to -repeat her inquiry whether either, neither, or both cared, which really -was the most interesting uncertainty of the situation, and one which -elicited a variety of opinion. Some, like Mrs. Cole, were still -incredulous, or chose to be, that either of them was in earnest. But -several of the more knowing women wagged their heads in concert with -Mrs. Cunningham, who, seated where her vision could rest on the -full-length portrait of her husband swathed in pink as the first Master -of the Westfield Hounds--one of the new decorative features--repeated -data to the effect that Herbert Maxwell was looking glum and was -drinking a little--much more than ever before in his life. - -"Poor fellow!" sighed Miss Marbury, and she added, as though in -self-congratulatory monologue, that there were some compensations in -being single. - -"Nothing of the kind; you know nothing about it," said Mrs. Cunningham -tartly. She did not choose to hear the institution of holy matrimony -traduced by a mere spinster; moreover, her nerves were on edge because -of her solicitude lest the most appalling possibility of all were -true--that Lydia really cared. For, granting the hypothesis, what might -not Lydia do? What would Lydia do? And as yet, though conjecture ran -riot and all Westfield was holding its breath, no one could speak with -authority as to what the truth was. Nevertheless, Mrs. Cunningham, as an -observer, was disposed to take a pessimistic view as to what the future -had in store for the colony, the good repute of which was precious to -her. On the other hand, many of the younger spirits among the women were -inclined to regard the mother of the hunt as a croaker, and as they -chatted apart from her on this occasion they cited her late opposition -to the recent innovations at the club as typical of her mental attitude. - -"Yet to-day, if a vote were taken whether we should go back to the old -primitive order of things," added Mrs. Miller, "she would be one of the -most strenuous defenders of the extra space and improved service which -we now enjoy. She can't keep her eyes off that portrait of her husband. -Look at her now." - -The stricture, so far as it related to Mrs. Cunningham's change of front -regarding the alterations, was just. Yet her frank acceptance and -enjoyment of the more decorative rooms and ampler creature-comforts, -even though they wore a radiance reflected from her husband's -full-length figure, revealed a broad and accommodating mind. There are -some persons who will continue to glorify the superseded past even in -the face of a manifestly more charming present. These are the real old -fogies, and there is no help for us, or them, but to ignore them. But -Mrs. Cunningham was of the sort which, though conservative, is ready to -be convinced even against its will; and, having been convinced, she was -able to draw her husband after her. A week's occupation of the new -quarters having made clear to her that, though more luxurious, they were -vastly more convenient, she had sighed and given in. Now there were no -two more resolute defenders of the results of the radical policy than -she and Andrew. Nevertheless she drew the line there, and still, -suspicious of what others defined as the march of progress, she was -prepared like a faithful sentinel to challenge developments which -aroused her distrust. Because the new club-house was a success, and the -inroad of multi-millionnaires had not been so subversive of the best -interests of the colony as she had feared, there was no occasion to -relax her vigilance. Thus she argued, and hence her genuine and somewhat -foreboding solicitude as to Lydia's behavior. - -But though Harry Spencer continued to dog the footsteps of Mrs. -Maxwell, so that he appeared in her society on all occasions, and people -wondered more and more how the husband could permit this triangular -household to continue without open demur, there were no new developments -during the late autumn and winter. Rumors of every description were -rife, but no one of the three interested parties deigned to provide a -solution of the enigma. Maxwell's demeanor on the surface was so far -unruffled that certain observers continued to maintain that his wife's -state of mind was entirely platonic; in other words, that he trusted -Lydia, and, though he might have preferred more of her society, was -willing she should amuse herself in her own way--which was not apt to be -the conventional way. And if he did not object, why should anyone else, -especially as the Maxwells were now in their town house and local -censorship by Westfield was suspended? But the majority shook their -heads, and repeated that though Maxwell held his peace, he was out of -sorts and still drinking more than his wont. Then, just as the community -was getting a little weary of the whole subject because nothing did -happen, the breaking out of the war with Spain drove it out of -everyone's mind. - -For the Westfield Hunt Club was up in arms at the first suggestion of -powder. All the small talk that spring bore on the matter of enlisting, -or on the men who had enlisted. Everyone wished to be a rough rider, and -if a commission in that favorite corps had been the certain prerogative -of an offer of service, all the able-bodied bachelors in the colony -would have enrolled themselves. As it was, there were numerous -applicants for this particular aggregation of fighters, but only Kenneth -Post, the master of the hounds, succeeded in joining it. Half a dozen -obtained billets elsewhere: Guy Perry on one of the war vessels -despatched to Cuban waters, young Joe Marbury in another of the -volunteer regiments, and Dick Weston, pretty Mrs. Baxter's brother, on -one of the yachts converted into a coast guard for the protection of our -Atlantic cities against bombardment by the battle-ships of Spain. - -Harry Spencer was also one of the half dozen. When he promptly proffered -his services to the Government, it was somehow taken for granted that he -would get a good post; and presently he justified his reputation by -receiving an invitation to join the staff of a brigade on the eve of -embarking for Cuba. No one at Westfield impugned his courage or -questioned his patriotism, but some of the women in discussing the -matter later agreed that he had to go. Mrs. Cole put it in a nutshell -when she said: - -"If by any chance Lydia cares for him, she would never have spoken to -him again had he remained at home." - -But there were cases, too, of disappointment. Andrew Cunningham, who, in -spite of conjugal bonds, was eager to go to the front, was rejected on -account of his age and weight, much to his chagrin and to the secret -satisfaction of his better-half. Douglas Hale was discarded on the plea -of color-blindness, though, as he pathetically informed his -acquaintance, the doctor who examined him declared that he had never -seen a finer physical specimen in other respects. Hence it will be -perceived that there was a nucleus left for the maintenance of a steady -fire of conversation at the club-house for the benefit of the -stay-at-homes. - -At first, in keeping with the course of events, it centred on the -possibilities of the destruction of New York, Boston, or Portland by the -enemy's fleet; and after that bogy was laid, and the phantom fleet -located, it reverted to that ever-fresh topic for controversy, the cause -of the blowing up of the Maine. Then it turned to Manila, and when the -events of that splendid victory had been threshed threadbare, scented -trouble with Germany. The victory at Santiago set every tongue a-wagging -and raised enthusiasm to fever pitch; but presently the struggles of our -poorly rationed troops prompted an inquiry into the merits of General -Shafter as a commander, and one heard the hum of speculation as to what -would have happened if Cervera had not come out when he did. - -Some of the members showed themselves positive arsenals of statistics -and secret information from the scene of action. Instead of dwelling on -his misfortunes at golf, Douglas Hale's shibboleth all summer was the -letter which he carried in his pocket from Guy Perry, who had the good -fortune to be in the van of the battle of Santiago. This he read to -every man or woman of his acquaintance who would let him, and cherished -as an historical document which put him in close touch with the -authorities at Washington. Andrew Cunningham tried to make the best of -his disappointment by showing himself an audible authority on the size -and equipment, identity and immediate location of every battle-ship, -cruiser, and torpedo-boat in the navy, and as to our future needs to fit -us to cope with the naval armaments of the other great powers of the -world. As to the women, they were utterly absorbed in making bandages -and comfort bags. - -Such were the diversions of the spring and early summer. By August the -heroes returned from the front and began to reappear on their native -heath. Other sporting garb gave place to regimental attire, and, to be -in fashion, both men and women wore army slouch hats and suits akin to -khaki. One of the first of the Westfield colony to reach home was Guy -Perry, looking brown as an Indian from his long exposure to the sun -outside the harbor at Santiago. On the day after his return his -engagement to Miss Peggy Blake was formally announced, much to the -delight of everybody, but to no one's surprise--a fact which slightly -dismayed the radiant couple, who were apparently under the delusion that -their tryst had been kept a profound secret. They were certainly an -attractive-looking pair as they dashed about the country on Guy's -dog-cart, proclaiming their good fortune to the world. Peggy's rough -rider hat, perched on the back of her head, suited her style of beauty; -and as they bubbled over with health and happiness, more than one camera -fiend took a shot at them as a charming epitome of the strenuous life. - -On the other hand, Kenneth Post returned on a litter, almost a skeleton -from fever; and Gerald Marcy, who against his own doctor's advice had -finally succeeded in getting stalled in camp in Florida, was limping -with rheumatism. Nevertheless, he was able to be about, and, though on -ordinary occasions a socially tactful spirit, he did not attempt to -conceal his pride at being the only one of the middle-aged men who had -succeeded in dodging the authorities and serving his country. - -But the hero who brought back the stateliest palm of glory from Cuba was -Harry Spencer, for he had his arm in a sling from a flesh wound caused -by a Spanish bullet at San Juan Hill, and had been subsequently in the -hospital, threatened with blood poisoning. He was emaciated and -interesting-looking, so Mrs. Cole, who had a glimpse of him, declared, -and he went straight to the small cottage at Westfield where he had -spent the previous summer. - -Two days subsequent to his return the spirit moved Mrs. Cole to call on -Lydia, and on the afternoon of the day she paid this visit it was -noticed that she sat pensive and silent while the other women at the -club were drinking tea. It was Mrs. Barker who called attention to the -circumstance by asking: - -"What are you incubating on, Fannie?" - -Mrs. Cole hesitated for a moment, then she said tragically, "I am afraid -she cares for him." - -No one had to ask who was meant. - -"What did I tell you?" exclaimed Mrs. Cunningham. - -"What makes you think so?" asked the practical Miss Marbury. - -Fannie Cole shook her head. "Not from anything she said. She didn't -mention the subject. It was from what she didn't say. She made me think -of a pent-up volcano." - -Proceeding from the intimate source it did, this testimony, though -metaphorical, was felt to be most interesting. - -"And if the volcano bursts, what will become of poor Herbert?" murmured -Mrs. Baxter. - -"That's it, of course. Yet it isn't the only thing," responded Mrs. -Cole. "What will become of Lydia? What will become of all three of -them?" The sociological vista which opened before her was evidently so -appalling that she leaned back limply in the straw chair on which she -was sitting. But the attitude was productive of philosophy, for she -suddenly said with the air of one rhapsodizing, but who nevertheless -utters an indictment against Providence: - -"If the divinity which shapes our ends really intended Lydia to be -happy, why was Harry Spencer allowed to return when he did?" Warming to -the vividness of her imagination, she continued briskly, "The ideal -course of events would have been this: First, the baby should never have -been born; secondly, Herbert Maxwell should have felt an uncontrollable -patriotic call to go to the war; he should have fought with -distinguished valor and brilliancy--sufficient to inscribe his name on -the pages of history--and he should have been shot dead. That would have -satisfied him. Then would have been the time for Harry Spencer to come -home. With him and Herbert's fortune Lydia might have been radiantly -happy. As it is--" Mrs. Cole paused, palsied by the perplexities of -reality, and unwilling to venture on prophecy. - -But Mrs. Baxter saw fit to finish the sentence for her by a not -altogether logical utterance: "As it is, it was Mr. Spencer who went to -the war and has come back alive and a hero. If Lydia liked him before, -it is of course all the harder for her not to like him now." - -Mrs. Cunningham uttered a sort of groan. Then she said emphatically, -"There can be but one end to it, in my opinion. Sooner or later she will -leave her husband and run away with him." - -There was a general nodding of heads--all but Mrs. Cole's. - -"And what will they do with that poor baby?" interjected Miss Marbury. - -Fannie Cole sat up by way of protest. "My dears," she said with gasping -alertness, "that would be comparatively normal, and it cannot be the -correct solution. Don't you see it's impossible? Neither of them has -any money. If she would, he wouldn't, and neither of them would." She -looked around the circle with a smile of triumph, knowing that her -stricture was unanswerable. - -"I never thought of that," said Mrs. Baxter, voicing the general -perplexity. - - - - -VI - - -Late one afternoon, about a month after, Lydia Maxwell was sitting in -her drawing-room at Westfield. An exquisite tea service stood on a table -close at hand. But tea had been served. At least the visitor who had -been spending the afternoon with her had drunk his and had been gone -about ten minutes. Her baby, left by the nurse on the way to her own -evening meal, was cooing on the sofa at her side, fended by pillows from -toppling over on its head, and provided with the latest novelties in -costly toys. The child was now nearly two, and her wardrobe was a credit -to her mother's decorative instincts. Lydia enjoyed the combination of -the infant and herself and spared no pains to produce an effective -picture on all occasions, whether the setting were the drawing-room, a -victoria, or a village cart. She counted on mounting Guendolen at the -earliest possible day on the tiniest of ponies as a picturesque hunting -attendant. Nor had her husband failed to appreciate what an opportunity -was here afforded for the artist. Six months earlier he had -threatened--the phrase was Lydia's--to have her and baby done by Sargent -on his next visit; in fact, Herbert had written to him. The offer had -been tempting from the point of view of immortality, but left alone with -the child, she had shaken her head and said: - -"It would be lovely if it were just right, Guen, but he might take it -into his head to form a vicious conception of mamma. And as for you, he -couldn't help making you the speaking image of Grandma Maxwell. Living -pictures are safest for us, dear, for we can control the canvas." - -Now she sat pensive and tense, her hands clasped in her lap. "Why do I -love him so?" she murmured under her breath, rebelling against the -consciousness which gripped her. Yet in another moment she asserted with -the abandonment of one defending his faith against all comers, "But how -I do love him!" - -A jocund, inarticulate effort at conversation by the child reminded her -of its presence. Reaching out her hand, she felt the silky softness of -the delicate infantile locks, and then the dainty texture of the frilled -dress. Again she said, talking to herself: "The problem is, what will -become of you, cherub? You must go with me, of course--if I go." - -Her baby cooed by way of response. There was a noise in the hall as of -someone arriving. - -"A visitor for you, Guen," she said. Hurriedly leaning over, she raised -her finger as one would to hold the attention of a dancing dog, and gave -this cue for imitation. - -"Say pa-a-pa--pa-a-pa." - -The earlier lessons had been fairly learned, for after a brief struggle -the dawning intelligence freed itself in an unequivocal if throaty -reproduction of the pious salutation. - -"You little pet! Now again." - -"Pa-a-pa." - -"At last. A sop to Cerberus," Lydia murmured. - -The door opened and the master of the house entered. He had just come -back from an afternoon ride, and in the few minutes which had elapsed -since his return Lydia knew that he had been to the sideboard in the -dining-room--a man's way of alleviating despondency. His glance, -avoiding or ignoring his wife, sought eagerly the object which he -expected to find--his infant daughter. This was the bright spot in his -day. The baby acknowledged his advent by a crow and by shaking a solid -silver rattle. Maxwell, walking across to the other side of the room, -sat down and held out his arms invitingly. But Lydia intervened to defer -the customary toddling journey in order to exhibit her pupil's latest -accomplishment. - -"Listen to her now, Herbert," she said, and gave the necessary signal. - -"Pa-a-pa." The verisimilitude was undeniable. - -Something very like a groan escaped Maxwell, though his countenance -lighted up. Was he thinking how happy he might have been had fate so -willed? - -The performance was repeated successfully a second time; then the child -was despatched on her travels across the carpet. When she ran staggering -into her father's arms he folded her to his breast and pressed his lips -against the fair, silky tresses. She was accustomed to be thus cuddled -by him, though to-night there was an added fervor in his endearments, -owing to her efforts at speech. Meanwhile Lydia from her angle of the -sofa observed them in demure silence. She had given him an entrancing -quarter of an hour, for which she was thankful. Besides, it might put -off the evil day--the day of rupture, decision, breaking up of the -present anomalous domestic relations--which was impending. He had been -devoted, forbearing, unselfish, he had lavished on her every luxury, but -he was impassible. He did not divert or interest her; his serious side -lacked originality; his gayer moods were noisy and deficient in -subtlety; the reddish inelegance of his physique repelled her. But what -was to be the end? This was the riddle which for diverse reasons she had -yet failed to solve. Its solution must depend on the future words of -both of them, and she had had no final explanation with either. For the -present she would fain have things remain as they were, until she could -find the key. - -The return of the nurse interrupted Maxwell's happiness. Grudgingly he -gave up his treasure. As soon as the child had been carried off, he -rose, and standing with his back to the blaze of the wood-fire, which -the first sharpness of autumn made agreeable, he faced his wife. - -"I met Spencer coming from here." - -"He stayed to tea." - -"And was here all the afternoon?" - -"You know he comes every afternoon." - -"And nearly every morning?" - -"Yes." - -"What is to be the end of this, Lydia?" - -She was preparing his tea, which he was accustomed to take after the -departure of Guendolen. "How do you wish to have it end?" she asked -presently. - -"I would have you promise me never to see him again, and to go abroad -with me for two years. Let us change the scene entirely. You owe it to -me, Lydia, and to our child." This was no new discussion, but he was -making one last determined effort to counteract the influences working -against him. - -"But you know I love him." - -"So you have informed me. You have informed me also that it has stopped -there." - -"It is true. Why, I scarcely know. Perhaps it would have been juster to -you if I had left you and gone to him." - -"I do not understand." - -"No matter, then." - -"But you loved me once," he exclaimed resolutely. "That is, you told me -so." - -"Yes, I told you so. And I did love you as I understood loving then. I -liked you, that's what it really was, and I liked the things which a -marriage with you brought me." - -"You mean you married me for my money?" - -"I did not know it at the time." - -"What do you mean, then?" - -Lydia clasped her hands behind her head and leaned back in her seat. "I -am trying to be frank with you," she said. "I am trying to make you the -only reparation in my power--to let you see me just as I am, just as I -see myself. We are what we are. I discovered that long ago." - -He caught up this appeal to fatalism with a quicker appreciation of her -significance than he was wont to show. - -"You need never see this man again unless you choose. You are my wife; I -am your husband. Does that stand for nothing?" - -"I should choose to see him," she answered with low precision, ignoring -the rest. "There is the trouble." - -He winced as though from a buffet. "Good God, Lydia, what have I done? -Is there anything within my power which you desired which I haven't -given you?" - -"You have been very generous." - -"Generous!" The word evidently galled him. "Do you realize that to -regain your love I would gladly sacrifice every dollar of the five -million I own?" - -For a moment she made no response. The idea of living with a penniless -Maxwell was one which she had never entertained, and it made clearer to -her the hopelessness of her plight. - -"I am not worth it, Herbert," she said gently. - -He, too, paused, baffled and at a loss how to proceed. "You are so -cold," he asserted with an access of indignation. - -"Cold?" The quality of the interrogation expressed the incredulity of -newly discovered self-knowledge. - -"To me." - -"Yes, to you, Herbert." - -He bent his brow upon her. "I suppose if I had devoted myself to some -other woman I might not have lost you. I had hints enough from our kind -friends, which I ignored because I did not choose to soil our wedlock by -such a foul pretense." His conclusion betrayed the loyalty of his -emotions, but there was the sneer of gathering temper in his tone. - -Lydia shook her head with a fastidious smile. "With some women that -might have been the remedy. It could have made no difference with me." - -"It is not too late yet," he cried with loud-mouthed menace. "You forget -that I am human--that I am a man." - -She raised the pages of a book beside her and let them fall gradually. -"You must do as you choose about that." - -"Then what is the remedy?" he shouted. - -"I used an inappropriate word. There is no remedy in our case." - -"Lydia, you are goading me to ruin." - -Striding up and down the room, he struck his leather breeches smartly -with his riding-crop--which he had brought from the hall because the -baby liked to play with it--so that they resounded. He halted before his -wife and exclaimed hoarsely: - -"What are we to do, then?" - -She had been warned by feminine innuendoes before marriage of the -Maxwell vehemence below the surface, and she perceived that their -affairs had reached a crisis. - -"Sit down, Herbert, please. I cannot bear noise. If we are to arrange -matters, we must talk quietly in order to decide what is really best -under all the circumstances." - -He gave an impatient twist to his head. "I wish you to know that I am -master here after this," he announced. Nevertheless, he walked to the -chair near the fireplace, which he had first occupied, and sitting down, -folded his arms. - -"Well, what have you to say?" - -"To begin with, Herbert, there is no escape for either of us from this -calamity. And you must not suppose that I do not realize how dreadful it -is for us both. So far as there is fault, it is mine. I ought never to -have married you. But the past is the past; I do not love you now; I can -never love you again." - -"One way out of it," he said between his teeth, "would be to kill the -man you do love." - -"How would that avail?" - -"I have thought more than once of shooting him down like a dog," he -blurted. - -Lydia shook her head. "You never could do that when it came to the -point. And in case of a duel, he is more handy than you. Besides, who -fights duels nowadays? And think of the newspapers! You know as well as -I that such a thing is out of the question--on Guen's account if for no -other reason. It would be blazoned all over the country." - -"On Guen's account! Why did you not think of her before you sacrificed -us both?" - -She looked back at him unruffled. "I am thinking of her now," she -replied with her finished modulation. "I have told you I am what I am." - -"Do not repeat that shallow sophistry," he exclaimed fiercely. "You are -what you choose to be." But in the same breath he fell back in his seat -with the air of one confounded. Then, resting his elbow on the arm of -the chair and his cheek on his hand, he gazed at her from under his -reddish, beetling brows as one might gaze at the sphinx. "What, then, do -you suggest?" he asked wearily. - -Lydia had shrugged her shoulders at his last stricture. Now raising -again the cover of the book beside her and letting the leaves slip -through her fingers, she replied slowly, "I suppose if you were a -foreign husband you would accept the inevitable and console yourself as -best you could. We should go our respective ways and ask no questions. I -should be discreet and--and things would remain as they are so far as -Guen is concerned." - -"I see. But I am an American husband, and, though they have the -reputation of being the most accommodating in the world, they draw the -line at such an arrangement as you suggest." - -"I thought very likely that you would. Then we must separate. Sooner or -later, I suppose, you will be entitled to a divorce, if you wish it." - -There was a pause. "Where will you go?" he asked in a hollow tone. - -"I have not thought," she answered. - -It was the truth. Clever and discerning as she was, she had put off the -inevitable from day to day, basking in the glamour of the present. What -would her lover say? Would he be ready to venture all for her sake? to -throw convention to the winds and glory in their passion? She did not -know; she had never asked him. They had never discussed the future. She -needed time--time to think and time to ascertain. Then a sudden thought -seized her, and she spoke: - -"I shall take Guen." - -"Guen?" There were agony and revolting consternation in his exclamation. - -"I am her mother. She is a mere baby. Am I not her natural guardian?" - -He sprang to his feet. "I should not permit it!" he thundered. "I should -go to law; I should appeal to the courts." - -[Illustration: "I should not permit it!" he thundered. "I should go to -law; I should appeal to the courts."] - -Her wits showed themselves her allies. "But if you drive me from this -house, the courts will give her to me," she said triumphantly. "What, -after all, have I done? You are jealous, and you dismiss me. They will -let me have my baby." - -The horror inspired by her cool, confident declaration choked his -utterance. He raised his riding crop in his clenched fist as though he -were impelled to strike her. "You--you--" he articulated, but no -suitable stigma was evolved by his seething brain. His arm fell, but he -stood with set teeth and bristling mien, like a wild boar at bay. - -His fury had the effect of enhancing Lydia's appearance of calm. "There -is no use in getting excited. I'm only telling you what is likely to -happen if we have recourse to desperate measures. She's a girl, and I -brought her into the world--had all the stress of doing so. Why -shouldn't I have her? I've heard lawyers say that when parents separate -the courts consider what is for the best good of the children. Surely it -is for the best good of a baby girl of two that she should go with her -mother. That's the modern social view, Herbert, and a man has to make -the best of it." - -As she proceeded Lydia had warmed to the plausible justice of her -argument. Recognizing that she had put herself in the best possible -position for the time being, she rose to go. Maxwell, gnawing at his -lips, stood pondering her dire words. The appalling intimation that he -might lose his precious child had numbed his senses with dread. He knew -his wife's cleverness, and that there must be some truth in her -statement. Might she not even at the moment be premeditating an attempt -to carry her away? Every other thought became at once subordinate to his -resolve to safeguard his treasure. As though he suspected that his wife -had risen under a crafty impulse to get the start of him, he blocked -her pathway by stepping between her and the door. - -"I forbid you to touch her," he said frowningly. "She shall never leave -this house. I am going to give my orders now and they will be obeyed." - -Maxwell stood for a moment as though waiting to see what response this -challenge would elicit, then, with a forbidding nod, he strode from the -room and shut the door after him. - -His departure was a relief to Lydia. All she had desired was to be -alone. She dropped again upon the sofa and sat looking into space. There -was only one course: she must have an understanding with Harry Spencer. -What would he say? What was he prepared to do for her sake? She thought -to herself, "He said once that my time would come. It has come, and, as -he prophesied, I am just like the others--only more so. More so because -they might be ready to give him up; they might not have the courage to -persevere and sacrifice everything else for the one thing which is worth -while--love. And I thought it would never come--that I was cold, as -Herbert says, and likely to be bored all my life. Now, against my creed, -against my will it has come, and I cannot do without him." For a moment -she sat in reverie, then murmuring, "I must know--and the sooner the -better," she stepped to the desk with an impulsive movement and wrote. - - - - -VII - - -Lydia's note was a summons to Spencer to go to drive with her on the -following morning. When he arrived she was ready with her village cart -and a fast cob. Regardless of appearances, her project was to seek some -distant spot where they would not be interrupted. The woods near Duck -Pond--in which they had passed pleasant hours together twice -already--commended themselves to her, and thither she directed their -course under the mellow October sunshine. She spoke of their jaunt as a -picnic, the edible manifestations of which she disclosed to him stowed -in neat packages behind. But she vouchsafed no immediate explanation of -the true purpose of this impromptu expedition. She was biding her time -until they should walk together in the sylvan paths, free from all -danger of interference. Since matters were approaching a climax, she was -glad also to give herself up for the moment to the glamour of sitting at -his side and realizing their affinity. Of all the men of her -acquaintance he was the only one who had never bored her; who seemed to -divine and cater to her moods; who amused her when she craved -entertainment, and was alive to the precious value of opportune silence. -He seemed to her possessed of infinite tact--and Lydia experienced an -increasing repugnance when her social sensibilities were jarred. That -had been one great trouble with Maxwell; he was forever doing the right -thing in the wrong way. His very endearments were awkward, whereas her -present companion's slightest gallantry gave a pleasant fillip to her -blood. - -Spencer, on his part, was quite content to ask no questions. He was with -the woman who exercised a subtler and more permanent fascination over -him than anyone he had hitherto met, not excepting Miss Wilford, and -this drive was only cumulative proof of favor on her part, one more sign -that their relations were approaching a crisis. What the precise and -ultimate result of their growing intimacy was to be he had not felt the -need to consider. For the moment it sufficed to know that, though both -her partiality for him and his influence over her were unmistakable, she -had up to this point kept him at bay--eluded him when she seemed on the -point of throwing herself into his arms. This skilful restraint on her -part had served to heighten the interest of his pursuit, and also to -deepen the ardor of his attachment. - -Before they had gone beyond the limits of Westfield several of their -mutual acquaintance were encountered, all of whom were too well-bred to -betray the vivid interest which the meeting aroused. Mrs. Cole, on her -way to play golf at the club, nodded to them blithely from her phaeton, -as though it were the most natural thing in the world they should be -together, and so concealed from them her dire suspicions which were thus -afforded fresh material to batten on. Gerald Marcy, sportsman-like and -dignified on his grizzled hunter, saluted them with the off-hand decorum -of a man of the world. - -"Glorious weather for man and beast," he asserted, as much as to say -that he knew how to mind his own business. When they had passed him, -however, he tugged nervously at his mustache and wagged his head like a -soothsayer. - -The newly engaged couple, sitting side by side in a village cart of -similar pattern to theirs, managed to conceal that they did not know -which way to look, and sustained the ordeal creditably, though the girl -was conscious that her cheeks were flushing. As they left the culprits -behind, Peggy clutched her lover's arm and whispered hoarsely, "Did you -see that?" - -"It's too bad," said Guy, who, being neither blind nor imbecile, had not -failed to take in the full import of the situation. "I for one am all in -the dark as to how this thing is going to end." - -"I knew they would be great friends, but I never supposed for a minute -that it would come to anything like this," mused the maiden sadly. "Even -when she chaperoned us that night I took for granted it was nothing -really serious." - -Mrs. Gordon Wallace, who, being a new-comer from the West, was less of -an adept, perhaps, in disguising her real feelings, put up her eye-glass -a little feverishly as she bowed. Whereupon it pleased Lydia to whisk -her head round a moment later. - -"She was staring after us with all her eyes!" she exclaimed. "I knew she -would; she couldn't resist the temptation. She will report that I have a -guilty conscience, whereas I was merely studying human nature in -violation of my own social instincts." - -"What did she see, after all?" queried Spencer, supposing that his -companion stood in need of a little soothing. - -"Everyone is talking about us, as you know," Lydia answered, ignoring -the query. "We have been for months the burning topic at Westfield, and -the fame of our misdeeds has spread abroad. Everything considered, -people have been wonderfully forbearing to our faces--perfect moles, in -fact--but behind our backs they are chattering like magpies. Fannie Cole -intimated as much, though I had guessed it." - -"Why need we care what they say?" he asked sedulously. What better -opportunity would he have than this for feeling his way? "We know that -there have been no misdeeds." - -She touched the horse with the tip of her whip, and he bounded forward. -"Is it not the prince of misdeeds that we love one another?" she said -after a moment. - -"We cannot help that." - -"But since it is true, what are we going to do about it, my friend?" - -"Do? Lydia," he whispered eagerly and bent his cheek toward hers, "it is -for you to say." - -She recoiled chastely from his endearment, though she thrilled at the -proximity. "Is it? I am not sure. I asked you to come with me this -morning in order to find out. It appears that we have reached the -parting of the ways." - -"The parting?" he queried apprehensively. - -"Not for us, unless we choose." - -"Ah." It was the sigh of an ardent lover. - -"Wait. I will tell you by and by when we can talk it out freely." She -turned and smiled on him with an effulgent grace such as she had never -in her life lavished on Maxwell. Therein she threw wide open for a -moment the casement of her soul and let him perceive the completeness of -the havoc he had wrought. - -"You angel!" he answered, breathing softly, and he pressed her hand. He -divined that her dainty spirit was in the mood when all it asked of him -was his presence, and that speech would be a discord. - -They were passing now beyond the confines of Westfield and the influence -of its colony into a more distinctly rural country--stretches of wilder -uplands, now pastures, now woods, alternating with small farm buildings -around which the fields lay stubbly with the party-colored remains of -the harvest, and redolent of autumn odors. Presently they reached a -village with a shady main street and old-fashioned white-faced houses, -most of the treasures of which, quaint andirons and other picturesque -relics of a simpler past, had been sent to market owing to the lure of -fancy prices. Then more fields, and at length they branched off from the -main road along a winding lane, on either side of which the view was -partially shut off by clusters of bushes gay with the colors of the -changing season. The perfume of the wild flowers was in the air, and -everywhere the blazon of the golden-rod was visible. - -They had exchanged an occasional word of comment on the sights and -sounds of the varying landscape, yet wholly impersonal. Now once more -she turned toward him with the same lustrous smile, and said, like one -exalted: - -"Love and the world are mine to-day." - -Thrilled by this confession of faith, he looked into her eyes ardently, -and encircling her waist sought to draw her toward him. - -"And they will be mine when you are mine. You must be mine; you shall be -mine." - -She freed herself from his grasp. "Patience, my friend." Her voice had -the tantalizing exultation of an elusive fay. "What should I gain by -that? Would you love me any more than you do now?" - -"Yes, yes indeed," he answered, disregarding logic. - -"I doubt it much," she asserted archly. "But wait." - -On they went, and finally the bushes along the winding lane became trees -and the sky above their heads was obscured by patches of foliage. They -were in an expanse of woods which, in spite of the proximity of -civilization, still smacked of luxuriant and elfish nature. The road, -though yet wide enough for a vehicle, wound gracefully between oaks and -pines stately with age. Some reverent hand had protected them. Their -trunks were scarred with weird growths, and on the carpet of the soil -big fungi flourished unmolested. It was a wild region to the imaginative -and uninitiated, yet there were evidences now and again of the nearness -of man and his devices, such as an occasional sign-post or rustic seat. -After half a mile of travel over a soft brown carpet sprinkled with -fragrant pine needles they brought up at their destination, a sort of -sylvan camp--a picnic-ground in reality, a favorite resort of the -masses in midsummer. Now it was deserted for the season. - - - Bare ruined choirs where late the sweet birds sang, - - -though the simile was applicable to the dismantled wooden buildings -rather than to the face of nature. The band-stand and eating pavilion -stood like starving ghosts amid the forest mysteries. But there was a -hitching-post at hand. Lydia knew her locality, and after the willing -cob had been secured and blanketed, she led the way down a short vista -to an arbor or summer house, to which clustering vines still imparted -some semblance of vernal cosiness. The view from it commanded through a -narrow clearing a picturesque outlook on the glistening waters of Duck -Pond, while the crackling underbrush furnished a cordon of alert -sentinels. On the rustic bench, where many inelegant predecessors had -carved their initials, there was ample room for two. Nor was it the -first time this pair had made use of it. Settling herself in her corner -with folded arms so as to face her companion, Lydia broke the silence. - -"Herbert says we cannot go on as we are." - -"He has intimated as much several times before." - -"But this time he is in earnest. He has put down his foot. He introduced -the subject yesterday after you had gone. I told him again the -truth--the truth he already knew--that I love you, and not him, and that -I can never love him." She paused. Was it to pique his curiosity, or was -she feeling her way while she revelled for the moment in her -declaration? - -He accepted her avowal complacently as a twice-told tale, but he was -interested obviously in what was to follow. - -"Well?" - -"He declines absolutely to be accommodating and resign himself to the -situation. The customary foreign point of view in such a case does not -appeal to him. When it came to the point I never supposed it would." - -"We were getting along so nicely, too. What brought this on?" Spencer -remarked parenthetically. The triangular footing had been submitted to -by Maxwell for so many months without an outbreak that the logic of -events seemed to him to demand some special incident as a justification -for this sudden revolt. - -"One can never tell when a volcano will assert itself. He simply -exploded, that's all," she answered. "The wonder is that he has put up -with it so long." - -"And what is it that he requires?" - -"He implored me never to see you again and to go abroad with him for two -years. When I declined, he said that he and I must separate." - -"A divorce?" - -"We did not discuss precise terms. The idea uppermost in his mind was -much less complex than that. He invited me to leave the house." - -Spencer made an ejaculation of astonishment. "At once?" - -"That was his meaning." - -"And what did you reply?" Under the spur of her disclosure he had risen. -Resting his arm on one of the spiky knobs of the rustic pillar in front -of him, he looked down at her inquiringly. Yet his long, athletic, -indolent figure still shrank from the conclusion that the status of -their affairs had been permanently disturbed. - -"I managed not to commit myself at the moment." She paused briefly. "I -desired to talk with you first, Harry. I felt that I must know what you -would like me to do." - -He straightened himself as from surprise. "I could not like you to do -that--leave the house." - -"It would only be possible provided I went to you." - -For a moment he seemed dumfounded. "From his house to me? But, -Lydia"--the boldness of the proposition was so staggering to Spencer, he -felt that he must have misunderstood her, and was groping for her -meaning. His consternation was evidently not unexpected, nor did it -elicit reproach. "No one would call on me, of course," she said dryly. -Then she added with cumulating tenseness, as one pleading a cause which -she suspects to be hopeless, "It would mean the end of everything else -in the world which I care for except one--my love for you. We could -leave this place forever, Harry, go to Australia, the world's end, -wherever you will, and be happy." - -A scampering squirrel with a nut in its mouth hopped into view on the -path, scanned them for an instant, then bounded into the underbrush. But -only just in time. It seemed to Spencer that the little animal was -grinning at him, and he had reached for a missile as an outlet for his -doubly harassed feelings. - -"My dear girl, you are crazy." - -"Very likely, Harry." - -"I love you to distraction, God knows, but that sort of thing is out of -date. Why, Lydia, you would be the first to tire of it. Happy? We should -neither of us be happy, for what would we have to live on?" The final -inflection of his voice was veritable triumph, so irrefutable appeared -his logic. - -Lydia gave a profound sigh. "I knew you would say that," she answered -quickly. "But it was our only chance. Suppose I get my divorce and we -marry here, what have we to live on? I have three thousand a year of my -own. And you?" - -"Not quite so much--assured." - -"Exactly. And there you are!--as Henry James's characters are so fond of -saying." - -They gazed at each other mutely. - -"We should be beggars with our tastes," she resumed. "It would never -do, would it, dear? You see, I have considered the subject." - -"I perceive that you have." The pensiveness of his tone was a virtual -admission that he had failed to recognize how subtle she had been. - -"The other was our only chance," she repeated. "I would have gone with -you, probably, if you had consented." - -"But I do consent, if you wish it," he asserted eagerly; and falling on -his knee he reached for her hand and pressed it to his lips. For the -first time in his life he had yielded to the intoxication of love -against his reason. The charm of this elusive, chameleon-like being had -got the better for the moment both of his discretion and his inherent -selfishness. - -Though the capitulation entranced Lydia, it had come too slowly and too -late. She shook her head. "It is you who have convinced _me_. You are -perfectly right. I should tire without things--of living on next to -nothing. It would be impossible. You knew me better than I did myself." -She freed her hand gently from his blandishments and smiled in his face. - -He rose and looked down at her again from the rustic pillar. "We might -manage somehow. I should be ready to try." He was nerved for the -sacrifice. - -"On six thousand? Oh, no, you wouldn't. At any rate, I should not." - -It was futile to pretend that it would be adequate. "We might live -abroad. Things are cheaper there," he suggested. - -"But I don't wish to live abroad. I wish to remain here, and I could not -hold up my head on much less than I have now, for, under the -circumstances, no one would call on us if we were poor." - -He showed that he saw the point, but it suited her to enlarge upon it. -"If one has millions and good manners one can do anything in America; -everything else is forgiven. But I would never put myself in the -position where I might be snubbed or pitied. That's why I must be rich. -And as for you, Harry," she continued, "unless you had a stable, steam -yacht, and at least two establishments, you would feel, after you had -cooled off, that you had thrown yourself away, and, consequently, we -should both be miserable." - -He laughed a little sceptically, but he did not deny the impeachment. -"What a clever woman you are, Lydia! That's one reason I love you so. -The thing to do," he said in his caressing voice, "is to prevent -matters from reaching the desperate stage. You must patch it up somehow -with Maxwell, and--and we shall find ways to see each other," he added -meaningly. - -She appeared not to hear his suggestion. "One million is the very least -that you and I could marry on--and be perfectly happy. And, if we had -it, we might be very happy." - -Her sigh of regret encouraged his alert warmth. He leaned toward her and -whispered, "Let us, then, be happy in the only way which is possible." - -She raised a warning hand. It was clear that she had understood his -previous innuendo. "To be happy under the rose is respectable abroad, -but here it may mean social ostracism," she replied demurely. "I tell -you that Herbert is dreadfully in earnest. Besides," she added after one -of her deliberate pauses, "Do you not love me? That is what I crave. -That is the essential thing for me." - -"You are mocking me," he said with choler. - -"No; only showing myself conservative and sensible like yourself. -Neither of us can afford to sacrifice everything, yet it would be -infinitely preferable to live together. You must find our million." - -Spencer shrugged his shoulders. "Where? In the stock-market? One plunge, -and drink wormwood if I lost? I will make you listen to me yet," he said -with the rising energy of one who feels himself at bay. His eyes gleamed -ardently, and the lines of his dark countenance, little accustomed to -brook opposition, grew rigid as they did in the moments when he -concentrated all his nerves on accomplishment. - -The charm of his mastering mood was not lost on Lydia, but its effect -was to fix her wits still more closely on the problem of their future. -Where was the necessary escape or remedy to be found? She lifted her -eyes to meet her lover's gaze, but they stared beyond him into the realm -of speculation. Suddenly she started as one who sees a -spectre--something weird and forbidden. Yet her stricken vision seemed -to gather fascination from a longer look, and she moved her lips as -though she were bandying words with doubts which fell like nine-pins -before her intelligence. Then, with a transport which revealed that she -had taken the intruder, however terrible, to her breast as the bringer -of a dispensation, she exclaimed: - -"Harry, I have found a way." - -"A way?" he ejaculated, for to him there now seemed only one course open -consistent with their necessities, and he feared some radical proposal -as the outcome of her trance. - -"For us to marry. We shall have enough." - -"Where is the gold mine?" he asked indulgently. - -She looked at him musingly with bright, searching eyes. In that moment -she concluded not to reveal her secret. "Yes, a gold mine," she -answered. "We shall have our million--perhaps two. Why not two?" She -asked the question of herself, and it was plain that she saw no stable -obstacle to her now widening ambition. - -Meanwhile Spencer surveyed her with scrutinizing wonder. Evidently her -transport was genuine. He knew her too well to doubt that there was -some basis for her specific statement as to the money. - -"Two would be better than one, Lydia. Let it be two, by all means," he -said jauntily. - -"It shall be two," she replied with the assurance of a necromancer -confident of compelling respect for his magic wand by the performance of -the marvels he has foretold. "You may kiss me, Harry--once." - - - - -VIII - - -The nuptials between Guy Perry and Miss Peggy Blake took place the -following summer--midway in June, the month of brides. They were married -in the little Episcopal church at Westfield, which since the advent of -the colony and of millionnaires had thriven like the traditional bay -tree, for most of the sporting element belonged, nominally at least, to -that fashionable persuasion. Hence the rector, the Rev. Percy Ward, who -had assumed this cure of souls with modest expectations regarding -numbers and revenues, had been pleasantly astonished by the rapid -increase in both. This had not made him proud, but appropriately -ambitious. It had allowed him to keep the appearance and properties of -the church up to the mark, aesthetically speaking, by vines, flowers and -fresh paint, and at the proper moment it had encouraged him to ask for a -new house of worship adapted to the needs of his growing congregation. -Success had crowned his efforts. Plans were being drawn for an artistic -and sufficiently spacious building to take the place of the rustic -quarters in use. But the bride had expressed herself as devoutly -thankful that she could be married in the original building, for she had -pious associations with it, and its smaller proportions seemed to her -more in keeping with a country wedding. For Peggy desired that the -ceremony should be an out-of-door affair. She had even thought at first -of being married under a bell of roses on her father's lawn. Yet, when -it came to the point she adhered to a ceremony in church. She wished to -be wedded to her true love as securely as possible, consequently she -invoked for the purpose full religious rites at the altar, but her -energies respecting the other features of the occasion were bent on the -production of open-air effects. They were to be simple and rurally -picturesque. - -The guests of the happy pair endeavored to comply with the wishes of the -bride consistently with regard for their own personal appearance. That -is, the women came in light summer attire, but with frocks of -fascinating shades, and straw hats of the latest dainty design with gay -feathers. The little church was packed to the doors, and on the green -fronting the vestibule stood those of the men for whom there was no room -inside. The leading members of the hunt were in pink, at Peggy's -suggestion; among them Andrew Cunningham with an immaculate stock and a -new waistcoat of festal pattern. It was a radiant, rare June day; not a -cloud was in the sky. The ceremony went off without a hitch save the -momentary hesitation occasioned by the bridegroom's diving into the -wrong pocket for the ring. All Peggy's family had expressed fears lest -her veil should fall off in keeping with her tendencies, so it had been -more than securely pinned to forestall such a calamity. She walked, on -her father's arm, modestly yet firmly up the aisle as became a strenuous -spirit; her responses were agreeably audible; and on her way down, -though she obeyed the instructions given her to keep her eyes straight -ahead--on the ball, as one of her friends had cautioned her--it was -clear from her blissful, confident expression that she found difficulty -in not nodding to her friends right and left by way of letting them know -how happy she was. She was dressed as nearly like a village maiden as -prevailing fashions in wedding garments would allow, and the simplicity -of her garb set off her fine physique and hue of health, which not even -the conventional pallor of brides was able wholly to dispel. Four -bridesmaids tripped behind her, the picture of dainty shepherdesses. - -On reaching the portal, however, Mrs. Peggy was unable to repress her -exuberance; and, before jumping into the carriage which was to carry -them to the breakfast at "Valley Farm," her father's residence, she -grasped and shook ecstatically a half dozen of the nearest hands. Then -as the vehicle containing the happy pair rolled away, while the bride -threw a kiss to the group of friends at the door, the swell of a horn -rose melodiously above other sounds, and along the meadow flanking one -side of the foreground the pack of hounds belonging to the Westfield -Hunt came into view headed by the Master, and every hound wore a wedding -favor. This feature had been devised as a surprise to the couple and a -tribute to their devotion to equestrian sport. Besides, it had a special -touch of interest for the women in that everyone knew that Kenneth Post, -the Master, would fain have been in the shoes of the fortunate -bridegroom. Yet he played his part with so much dignity and spirit, as -he led the way toward their destination, that the contagion of his -demeanor spread to the entire retinue of guests which followed in their -various equipages and the omnibuses or so-called "barges" provided, and -the procession swept along on the wings of gayety. - -In the midst of the confusion of getting away, the pole of pretty Mrs. -Baxter's village cart was broken through collision with the champing -steeds bearing the phaeton containing Mr. and Mrs. Gordon Wallace. Among -the many proffers of succor the first and most acceptable emanated from -Mrs. Walter Cole, who had obviously a spare seat in her neat oak station -wagon. The fact was that Mrs. Cole's husband, having been detained in -town by pressing business, had telephoned his wife at the last moment to -go without him to the ceremony, and that he would follow by the next -train. Consequently she had arrived only barely in time to get a seat, -and that by dint of crowding the pew a little. - -She had sat there as in a trance, unable to fasten her attention on the -charming spectacle as fixedly as it deserved. Her mind kept wandering -elsewhere; reverting to certain amazing news of which she had become -possessed only the afternoon before, and which she had had no -opportunity to impart to the many who would be thrilled by it. She was -revelling in the thought of the sensation it would produce, and her own -intelligence was agreeably busy with the clever novelty of the procedure -and with trying to decide whether, in spite of the heartlessness -displayed, the solution devised was not perhaps the best under the -peculiar circumstances. She had felt that she should burst if she could -not tell some kindred soul soon; but such an astounding piece of -information was not to be wasted on people whose faculties were already -fully occupied; it merited a single mind. Therefore the moment she -became aware of Mrs. Baxter's mishap, she exclaimed with almost -hysterical eagerness: - -"Rachel, there's a seat for you here. Do come with me; I'm all alone." - -When the invitation was accepted, Mrs. Cole pressed her hand and leaned -back with a happy mien. There was no use in speaking until they were -free from the concourse and were sweeping along the road toward "Valley -Farm." That auspicious moment having arrived, she turned to her friend -and said: - -"Well, dear, the mystery is solved." - -"About Lydia?" asked Mrs. Baxter with breathless animation. - -"Yes. She sent for me as soon as she returned. I went to town to see her -yesterday." - -"Where has she been all this time?" - -"Nominally, as we were told, travelling in Mexico for two months with -her cousins; in reality coming to terms with Maxwell in regard to a -divorce." - -"Then they are really to be divorced? How pitiful! But I suppose it was -the only solution. Do go on, dear," she added, fearing lest this crude -philosophic digression might be the reason for the pause on Mrs. Cole's -part. - -But the narrator, though she regarded the comment as superficial, was -merely arranging her material with a view to dramatic effect. - -"We had a heart-to-heart talk. She told me everything. She wishes people -to know--and to try to understand her point of view. Yes, Rachel, they -are to be divorced. The papers are already filed. The lawyers say that -it is simple enough, if both the parties are agreed, and it seems they -are--all three of the parties rather. The court proceedings will be as -secret as possible. Herbert is to let her obtain it from him--for cruel -and abusive treatment or gross and confirmed habits of intoxication--to -save Lydia's reputation on the child's account. Then Lydia is to marry -Harry Spencer and live happily ever after--if she can." - -"She never would have been happy with Maxwell," remarked Mrs. Baxter -pensively. "Poor fellow! When one reflects that he probably was never -cruel or abused her in his life, and that his confirmed habits, if he -has them, are due to her neglect! What is to become of him?" - -Mrs. Cole had been waiting for some such question. "The law is queer, -you know," she said, by way of disposing of the rest of the plaint. Then -she added, with significant emphasis, "He is to have Guen." - -"Altogether?" - -"Altogether. That is the way Lydia got him to consent to a divorce." - -Not being so clever as some women, Mrs. Baxter looked puzzled. "I don't -think I quite understand." - -Mrs. Cole, who was enjoying thoroughly the gradual climax, sat upright, -and facing her companion laid her hand on Mrs. Baxter's arm. - -"Rachel," she said, "Lydia has sold Guendolen to her husband for two -million dollars!" - -Mrs. Baxter gave a gasp and a smothered shriek. "Two million dollars! -The poor, dear child!" - -The two ejaculations were not entirely consistent, for they revealed a -divided interest. Mrs. Cole proceeded to face the second first. - -"I've thought it all over and over,--I did not sleep until four, I was -so excited--and there can't be any doubt that, under the circumstances, -it's the best thing for the child. Her father dotes on her, and Lydia -never has been able to forget that she is the living image of his -mother. It was probably a struggle--she intimated as much--for it sounds -so revolting, and a woman is supposed to be a lioness where her own -flesh and blood are concerned. But when it came to a choice between Guen -and Harry Spencer, she chose the one she cared for most." - -"And she really gets two millions? Why, she will be as rich as before." - -"Exactly. That's one of the interesting phases of the case. You see, -they couldn't afford to marry, for neither of them had any money to -speak of, though they were dead in love with each other. On the other -hand, they had never done anything--so Lydia swears, and I believe -her--which would entitle Herbert Maxwell to a divorce; so when Herbert -invited her to leave the house, she replied that she would, and that she -would take Guendolen with her. It just happened to occur to her, but the -effect was marvellous. It enabled her to hold over Herbert's head the -menace that, when parents who can't get on agree to separate, the courts -are likely to give a baby girl to the mother, and oblige the father to -be content with occasional reasonable visits. That frightened Herbert -nearly to death. It seems he raged like a bull--poor man!--and -threatened to shoot anyone who laid a finger on the child. Now comes -the really clever part," continued Mrs. Cole, with an appreciative sigh. -"Lydia had threatened to take Guen merely to gain time to think, but -when she realized that she and Harry Spencer could never be happy unless -she were willing to lead what the newspapers call a double life, she was -at her wits' end. Then the idea suddenly occurred to her, and--horrible -as it was at the first glance--it seemed the solution of everything. So -she engaged a lawyer to open negotiations with her husband, and she went -away to Mexico to give Herbert a chance to think over the proposal. She -lived in terror of centipedes while she was gone, but there were lots of -interesting old relics there, and one day she got a telegram from her -lawyer announcing that the whole thing was settled. The necessary papers -have been drawn, and as soon as the divorce is granted she will get the -money. What do you think of that? Isn't it original and revolting, and -yet, seeing that she is Lydia, comprehensible? And the most -extraordinary thing of all is that, when one considers the matter -dispassionately, it is not clear that it isn't the most sensible -arrangement all round." - -Rachel Baxter, being of a less philosophical turn of mind, was still -aghast. - -"What will people say?" she added naively, as one in monologue. "Of -course, they have their money." - -"They have their money, and Lydia proposes to come back here as soon as -she has--er--changed husbands. That's just like her, too. She intends -that Westfield shall treat her precisely as though nothing had -happened." - -"Really!" Mrs. Baxter's surprise showed a touch of consternation. "It -will be very awkward, won't it? Though, after all," she murmured, "it -isn't anything criminal, like--" She found difficulty in hitting on an -appropriate simile. Meanwhile Mrs. Cole added, dispassionately: - -"She would have come to-day, but she felt that she might be thought -indelicate, considering that it is a wedding, and that her own affairs -are still at sixes and sevens so far as appearances go. But she sent her -love to Peggy." - -At the moment they were dashing up the driveway of "Valley Farm." Mrs. -Baxter, who had been nursing her emotions as one whose ethical -sensibilities had received a blow in the solar plexus, made this attempt -at a summary: - -"It is diabolical, but interesting. I wonder what people will say." - -No time was lost by either of them in spreading the abnormal news. But -it suited pretty Mrs. Baxter's temperament better to follow in her -companion's wake, supplementing the narrative by ingenuous cooing -speeches rather than by an independent excursion. They joined at first -the procession of guests making snail-like progress toward the bride and -groom, who were holding court in the drawing-room of the decorative -modern mansion built for occupation from May to December. As chance -would have it, they found themselves next in line behind Mrs. Andrew -Cunningham, into whose ear Fannie Cole, bending forward, whispered -simply the fell words: - -"Lydia has sold Guendolen to her husband for two million dollars, and -is to marry Harry Spencer on the proceeds as soon as the divorce is -granted." - -The mother of the hunt made no sign for a moment, like one stunned. -Then, as comprehension of the facts dawned upon her, the blood mounted -to her face so that the crab-apples in her cheeks were very much in -evidence, and she bounced completely round. - -"That caps the climax! That is the most up-to-date, highly evolved -performance yet. Who told you?" The sardonic ire in her voice was -formidable. - -"Lydia--yesterday." - -Incredulity snatching at the chance of exaggeration was thus baffled. -"It's monstrous! I shall never speak to her again." - -Appalled by the bluntness of the threat, Mrs. Baxter interposed naively, -"But she is going to live here after she is married." - -"So much the better." Whereupon Mrs. Cunningham turned her back upon -them, in search of her husband, to whom she felt the urgent need of -imparting the information. - -Mrs. Cole nodded her head, as much as to say that she understood the -point of view, but her perspicuous philosophy prompted her to take a -much broader view of the situation. - -"It's dreadful, May, of course, and disconcerting to maternal notions," -she began; "but--" Then realizing that for the moment the indignant -censor was otherwise occupied, she decided to reserve her ameliorating -comments for a more favorable opportunity than the promiscuous line -afforded. After all, the episode was not meat for babes, and undeniably -deserved more than flippant treatment. - -The news thus unbosomed spread like wildfire. After kissing the bride, -Mrs. Cole, during her progress to the piazza and lawn, where many of the -guests were beginning to partake of refreshments appropriate to the -occasion, had the satisfaction of throwing it like a bombshell into -successive groups; while the Cunninghams lost no time in revealing what -they had heard. Wherever it was uttered it took the place of every other -topic, so that presently all the adults and many of the minors of the -company were feverishly discussing the social drama presented. - -The course of the wedding breakfast, thus enlivened, proceeded according -to programme. It was a felicitous scene, what with the balmy, brilliant -day, the brightly dressed assembly, and the picturesque addition of the -pack of hounds, which danced attendance at a respectful distance within -proper limits previously prepared for them. After everybody had -congratulated the happy pair, they showed themselves at an angle of the -piazza to cut the wedding-cake which stood festal and massive on an -adjacent table. - -Then at the proper moment the bride's health was proposed by Gerald -Marcy with dignity and grace, in pledge of which everybody's glass of -champagne was lifted and drained. The bridegroom, goaded into speech, -made a few halting remarks expressive of his own happiness and good -fortune, ending in a serious tag of chivalrous, if slightly involved, -sentiment, which evoked fresh enthusiasm. - -Toasts were drunk to the bridesmaids, the parents of the bride, and the -Hunt Club. In response to the last of these Mrs. Baxter's brother, Dick -Weston, who possessed a deep-toned voice, started the club-song, the -words of which had been composed by Andrew Cunningham in his salad days -under the inspiration of five Scotches and soda, and been adopted on the -occasion of its first delivery as the property of the colony: - - - Across the uplands brown we ride, - And our pulses bound with life's ruddy tide, - As we follow the hounds o'er the country-side - In the brisk October morning. - - -So he sang, and everybody joined in the refrain with genial gusto, not -excepting the bride--"Miss West Wind" still, in spite of her veil and -satin attire--who waved her glass and carolled with the rest, until even -the hounds seemed to catch the infection and added their notes to the -general jubilation. Then it transpired that stout Miss Marbury had found -the ring in her piece of wedding-cake. This was the source of some -merriment, amid which the bride slipped away to change her dress, and -the guests, left to their own devices, returned to their discussion of -the half-digested news. - -Gerald Marcy, who had heard it, like everybody else, with mingled revolt -and bewilderment, passed from his functions as toast-master to what -might be called the storm-centre of the animadversion, a small -summer-house or arbor on the trellis of which June roses were blowing, -and where the Andrew Cunninghams, Mrs. Cole, the Rev. Percy Ward, and -several others were congregated. He arrived just as the rector was -exclaiming, with pained fervor: - -"We have here the logical fruits of the present-day degenerate -readiness to put off one husband or wife in order to marry another. If -every clergyman in the land were to bind himself never to perform the -marriage service in the case of any recently divorced person, some -headway might be made against this social pest--the canker-worm of -modern family life." - -The symbolic allusion to canker-worms caused nimble-minded Mrs. Cole to -glance up involuntarily at the vines to meet some impending danger to -her summer finery at the same moment that she replied: - -"I don't think it would make much difference, if you'll pardon my saying -so, Mr. Ward--with Lydia, I mean. She would be content with a justice of -the peace if a clergyman were not forthcoming. But," she continued, with -increasing volubility, "what, of course, you wish to know is whether -there is anything which will keep people of our sort--not the wives of -the toiling masses whose husbands beat them and who feel that they ought -to be allowed to solace themselves with a second, but the four hundred, -so to speak, and their friends--from trifling with the marriage -relation. There's only one remedy, in my opinion, though I don't wish to -be understood as advocating it in Lydia's case, for I'm her closest -friend, and she isn't here to defend herself. But if, as appearances -indicate, she has overstepped the limit--though you all admit that the -situation was a tremendous one--the only thing which would cut her to -the quick would be if the people whose friendship she values were to -turn the cold shoulder on her. That's the only criticism she would -really care for, Mr. Ward," she concluded alertly, with her head poised -on one side. Mrs. Cole's interest in philosophical discussion was not to -be repressed even by her loyalty. - -"Ah!" exclaimed the clergyman approvingly. "The force of public opinion! -The Church is merely trying to lead public opinion. If public opinion -will act of its own accord, so much the better." Mr. Ward, though -faithful to his principles, was not averse to let this section of his -flock perceive that he welcomed righteousness from whatever source it -proceeded, as became a liberal-minded Christian. - -"What constitutes public opinion in this country?" asked Gerald Marcy. -"One of the evils of universal liberty is that there are no recognized -standards of behavior. It is all go-as-you-please." - -"Amen," ejaculated the rector. - -"Consequently," continued Gerald, pursuing the thread of his -contemplation, "a social boycott, such as Mrs. Cole suggests, becomes -effective only when the particular set to which an offender belongs -chooses to take the initiative--which is awkward, for where exactly is -one to draw the line?" - -"I, for one, feel as though I never wished to speak to her again," said -Mrs. Cunningham. - -"She certainly deserves to be cut," said her husband, doughtily. Yet he -added, "It would be precious hard to manage, though--not to mention -inconvenient--if she comes to live at Norrey's Knoll and everything is -patched up according to law." - -"There you are, you see!" exclaimed Gerald. "I tell you," he said, with -a tug at his mustache, "that it's very difficult to cut people whom one -has known all one's life, unless they've committed murder or -embezzled." - -"It isn't as though she were a bigamist or living in--in violation of -the seventh commandment," remarked Mrs. Baxter dreamily, remembering -just in time to round out her sentence with decorum for the benefit of -Mr. Ward. - -The rector jumped at the opportunity offered. "Isn't that just what she -is doing? It is precisely that from the Church's point of view." - -"If the Church would only pass a canon forbidding us to call on women -who get divorced in order to marry someone else, it would be easier to -take such a stand," remarked Mrs. Cole. - -"But it isn't the divorce I mind so much. It's her selling Guendolen," -exclaimed Mrs. Cunningham, with the honesty of her temperament. "We -couldn't ostracize her simply because she has got a divorce and married -again, for there are so many others." Her tone showed that she realized -the impracticability of a social crusade based solely on the existence -in the flesh of a previous wife or husband. Yet she yearned for action -in this particular case. But what could one woman do alone? - -"On the contrary, it seems to me a grand opportunity, ladies," said the -clergyman stoutly. "The conduct of the offending parties in this -instance represents individual selfishness and license carried to the -culminating point. Because you may have neglected to do your duty in -respect to the others is no justification for flinching now. It's the -whole degraded system, root and branch, which I am fulminating against; -but here we have a concrete, monstrous instance which invites action. -Is ostracism never to be invoked, as Mr. Marcy intimates, except in the -case of the taking of life or where the pocket is affected?" - -There was a painful silence. For a wedding reception the discussion was -becoming decidedly forensic. - -"We must think it over," said Mrs. Cunningham. "If none of us women were -to invite her to our houses or go to hers--" She paused without -completing her sentence, evidently appalled by the vista of social -complications which it opened up. - -"There's nothing else in the wide world which Lydia would mind," said -Mrs. Cole ruminantly. "But it would break her heart." - -"Even a stone can break," Gerald could not refrain from whispering in -the speaker's shell-like ear. - -"That's not fair. You do not understand her, my friend. She sold Guen -to make sure of Harry Spencer." Mrs. Cole answered in the same -undertone, "When he is concerned she is a perfect volcano." - -"Theoretically," continued the grizzled satirist aloud, with a bow of -deference in the direction of the clergyman, "I should like, as a censor -of modern social degeneracy, to see it tried, but--but practically it -seems to me to be out of the question." - -"One woman alone couldn't do it, anyway," blurted out Mrs. Cunningham, -in the accents of dogged distress. - -Just then the murmurs of a small commotion broke in upon their dialogue, -and all eyes were turned in the direction of the front door. - -"The bride is going to start, and she has dropped a comb. If she isn't -careful, her hair will come down after all!" exclaimed Mrs. Baxter by -way of elucidation. - - * * * * * * - -One forenoon in the month of July, a year later, the lawn-tennis courts -of the Westfield Hunt Club were all occupied. The reason was clear; -tennis had become the fashionable sport. Some of the younger spirits, -who found golf too gentle a form of exercise, had rebelled successfully -against the predominance of that pastime. Consequently all the people of -every age who try to do what the rest of the world is doing had -consigned their golf clubs to the recesses of their hall closets and -bought rackets. Until the present year two courts, both of dirt, had -amply supplied the needs of the members; indeed, they had often remained -vacant for days at a time. Now even four additional courts failed to -meet current demands, and everybody wished to play on those made of -grass, of which there were but two. - -On this particular morning these were in the possession of two pairs of -women players, who might be said to represent the antipodes of feminine -skill at the game. A couple of the younger matrons, Mrs. Reynolds and -Mrs. Miller, both adepts, were engaged in a close, fast contest. Their -balls flew low and swiftly, and their long rallies called forth frequent -applause from the spectators, chiefly women, sitting on benches along -the side lines or on the piazza, as one or the other of the lithe young -women, whose restricted, dainty, diaphanous white skirts seemed almost -glued to their figures, would pick up the ball when it appeared to be -out of reach by dint of a brilliant dash. The other pair of opponents -were Miss Marbury, looking stouter than ever in flannels, and Mrs. -Gordon Wallace. They were tossing slow, high lobs and getting very warm -in the process. They puffed and panted audibly, although the ball struck -the net or flew out of bounds much of the time. Yet they had the -satisfaction of knowing that they were in fashion; moreover, they had -the sanction of their physicians, who advised the exercise as an -antidote against corpulency and rheumatism. - -Most of the men had gone to the city. Douglas Hale and Gerald Marcy were -on one of the dirt courts, and Walter Cole, who was taking his vacation, -was playing golf with Kenneth Post. One solitary woman, Mrs. Cunningham, -was on the links with her husband. She had demurred stoutly at the -contagion of the new fever, and still remained faithful to the -fascination of the royal and ancient game. The centre of club life was -undeniably the tennis courts, and thither all those who arrived directed -their footsteps. - -Mrs. Reynolds and Mrs. Miller having finished three sets, repaired to an -isolated bench to enjoy a soda-lemonade and to cool off under the -influences of a friendly chat. Mrs. Reynolds, who, as has been -intimated, wore the breath of life in her nostrils, had got slightly the -better of her adversary, and was inclined therefore to be on the alert, -if not perky. Her ears were the first to detect the whir of an -automobile, and she pricked them up. Then the toot of a horn fixed -everyone's attention on the approaching monster, for automobiles were -still more or less of a novelty, and engendered curiosity. In another -instant a huge machine, of bridal white, as Mrs. Baxter subsequently -described it, tore around the corner of the road, and, dashing past the -occupants of the tennis courts, swept up to the ladies' entrance of the -club-house, where it paused, snorting like a huge dragon. It was the -largest and most imposing "bubble" which Westfield had gazed upon. Many -of the spectators left their places to examine it, and everyone's head -was turned in that direction. - -[Illustration: A huge machine of bridal white ... tore around the -corner.] - -"It is they!" said Mrs. Reynolds with emphasis; then, after a pause, she -asked: "Are you going to-morrow afternoon?" - -"I suppose so. As it was a 'request the pleasure,' I had to answer, and -we didn't have an engagement. Besides, she has brought home some lovely -new tapestries, and we are asked to meet an Eastern soothsayer, who is -said to be a marvel at mind-reading. Mrs. Charles Haviland and half a -dozen women, who are supposed to be fastidious, are coming from town, so -my husband seemed to think we had better go." - -"It's because she's artistic that she is forgiven, so my husband says, -and of course if everyone else is going to 'Norrey's Knoll' there is no -sense in our turning up our noses at the new master and mistress." - -"Is Mrs. Cunningham going?" asked Mrs. Miller. - -"I hear that Dick Weston has bet Mr. Douglas Hale fifty dollars to -twenty-five that she does." - -"I suppose Lydia and her husband have come to lunch and play bridge," -said Mrs. Miller musingly. "They say she plays wonderfully--almost as -well as he does. My husband objects to my playing for money." - -"So does mine. He says it is bad form--vulgar for women--and that it is -bringing American society down to the level of the four Georges. But how -about men? I obey him, because I am of the dutiful kind. But how about -men?" she reiterated trenchantly. - -Mrs. Miller dodged the question. "I should fall in a fit if I lost -seventy-five dollars in an afternoon, as some of them do." - -"They say one gets used to it. I have made Alfred promise to give me an -automobile as an indemnity for refusing to play. I must be in fashion to -that extent anyway." - -Mrs. Miller laughed. They were now practically alone. The occupants of -the tennis courts, both women and men, had drifted toward the club -entrance, where they stood admiring the new machine and exchanging -greetings with the newly married owners. The Spencers had been in -possession of "Norrey's Knoll"--which Herbert Maxwell had sold to -Lydia--about three weeks, and on the morrow were to hold an afternoon -reception for the latest social novelty, an Eastern sorceress. From -where they sat the two young women were able to perceive what was going -on, and presumably it was the sight of the grizzled Gerald Marcy -bandying persiflage with Mrs. Spencer which furnished the cue to Mrs. -Miller's next remark: - -"Mr. Marcy says that 'bridge' is essentially a gambling game," she -responded a little mournfully, "and that to play it properly one should -play for money, if at all." - -"Mr. Marcy says also, my dears, that there are no recognized standards -of behavior in this country. It is all go-as-you-please," said a -sardonic voice close behind them. They turned in surprise. So absorbed -had they been in their dialogue and in watching the arrival of the -Spencers that they had failed to notice the approach of Mrs. Andrew -Cunningham. - -"And he is right," continued that lady, tossing her golf clubs on the -grass with a somewhat dejected air. "I am going to surrender." - -Thereupon she accepted the space which the others made for her on the -bench, and folding her arms turned her gaze in the direction of the -white monster and its satellites. The elder matron vouchsafed no -immediate key to the riddle she had just enunciated. Mrs. Reynolds -stooped, and picking up the bag of golf clubs examined them with an air -of one who scans ancient, fusty relics. - -"I can't imagine," she said, "how you can keep on playing golf now that -everyone is crazy about tennis." - -Mrs. Cunningham smiled wanly. "That's what I meant," she answered. "I'm -going to begin tennis to-morrow--and I'm also going to Lydia Spencer's -reception. My spirit of opposition is broken." - -"Yes," continued the mother of the hunt, in an apostrophizing tone, as -though she still felt herself on the defensive, "every one is going, and -most of the nice people are coming from town. So why should I be stuffy -and bite my own nose off? Which goes far to prove, my dears," she added, -sententiously, "that the only unpardonable social sin in this country -is to lose one's money. Nothing else really counts." - -"Oh!" exclaimed the two young women together with animation, as each -reflected that Dick Weston had won his bet. - - - - -BOOKS BY ROBERT GRANT - - -"As an observer of American men and women and things Judge Grant is -without a rival."--_The Critic._ - -"He has proved himself a domestic and social philosopher, happily -commingling sharp vision with a good deal of rational philosophy -touching practical matters and every-day relationships."--_The Outlook._ - - -The Undercurrent - -Illustrated by F. C. Yohn. 12mo. $1.50 - -"First of all a novel, and an excellent one."--_Review of Reviews._ - -"It is a novel in that it has a simple and sympathetic romance for a -basis; it is a great novel in that it presents each typical phase of -modern life as a master would paint it, seizing the supreme moment and -interpreting its significance."--_New York Sun._ - -"Into it has gone so much thought, so much keen observation, so much -ripe reflection, that one lays it down with a feeling of respect -amounting almost to reverence for the man who has brought to the -complicated problems of our modern living such earnestness and such -ability."--_Interior, Chicago._ - -"The discriminating reader cannot fail to find a keen pleasure in the -fine literary art which the book displays, as well as the masterly -fashion in which the story is developed."--_Brooklyn Eagle._ - - -Search-Light Letters - -12mo. $1.50 - -"The book has a unique character and flavor that ought to make it -pleasant to the little company of faithful lovers of the English -essay."--_The Churchman._ - -"Mr. Robert Grant is one of our brightest and wittiest writers, and he -tells whatever he has to say in so graceful, happy, and amusing a -fashion that everything he writes is thoroughly enjoyable."--_Boston -Herald._ - -"Judge Grant has a keen eye for human weakness, but he looks with -Emersonian benignity upon frailties, and he is not without the -philosopher's optimistic note of hope."--_Chicago Tribune._ - - -The Art of Living - -12mo. $1.50 - -"Mr. Grant's style is easy and lively, his views of life are sound, his -humor is pleasing, his wit keen. His book is as good an example of the -art of writing as of the art of living."--_The Independent._ - -"We have never read a page of his writing of which he should be ashamed, -either as a true gentleman or an unusually deft and clever weaver of the -wholesome English language."--_The Critic._ - -"Crisp and delightful essays. The book is excellent and valuable in -every sense of the word."--_Brooklyn Daily Eagle._ - - -Unleavened Bread - -12mo. $1.50 - -"No American writer for many years has wrought out a work of fiction so -full of meaning, so admirable in its literary quality, and so large and -comprehensive as this book of Mr. Grant's."--_The Bookman._ - -"The author has elaborated with perfect and convincing clearness a -subtile problem in social evolution. And yet he gets into no intricate -and fine-spun webs of theory. He sums up the whole case with judicial -fairness and gives the devil his dues. The satire in it springs from -abundant knowledge of actual social conditions. It is cutting, but it is -not flippant or cynical. The book is written in dead earnest."--_Life._ - -"In depicting Selma Mr. Grant has produced a work of art so symmetrical -and sincere that it deserves also to be called a work of -science."--_London Academy._ - -"It would be difficult to find a modern novel cleverer than 'Unleavened -Bread.' It is impossible within the narrow limits of a short paragraph -to give any idea of the extreme cleverness with which Selma's character -is drawn. An interesting study of American life, with a subtilely -painted portrait of a delicate and virtuous female Pecksniff. The book -is a great deal more than readable."--_London Spectator._ - -"A very remarkable novel, rich in ideas, strong in high appeal, of great -interest to all students of life and character, and, especially, to -every American who loves his country and desires the best things for -her."--_Boston Advertiser._ - - -The Bachelor's Christmas - -Illustrated. 12mo. $1.50 - -"Mr. Grant's short stories are models in their way. He always writes -well and simply, with no affectations and with much humor."--_New York -Times._ - -"Clever and interesting. Mr. Grant has a happy turn of words, with much -appreciation of humor."--_Philadelphia Public Ledger._ - -"A most agreeable volume."--_New York Sun._ - -"Mr. Grant's humor is kindly, loving, pure, innocent."--_New York -Tribune._ - - -Reflections of a Married Man - -16mo. $1.25 - -"A quiet and extremely pleasant social satire."--_Providence Journal._ - -"Writers of renown have drawn many true and vivid pictures of different -phases of American life, but none has succeeded in presenting anything -more typically American than that which is given us in this small -book."--_Chicago Evening Post._ - - -THE Opinions of a Philosopher - -16mo. $1.25 - -"He at least is a laughing philosopher, and discusses the ups and downs -of married and business and social life with a hopeful spirit. He is -amusing and ranges from lively to severe in his running -commentary."--_Springfield (Mass.) Republican._ - -"The book is altogether a delightful one and its freshness and sincerity -are beyond all praise."--_Charleston (S. C.) News and Courier._ - - -CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS - -NEW YORK - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Orchid, by Robert Grant - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ORCHID *** - -***** This file should be named 53711.txt or 53711.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/3/7/1/53711/ - -Produced by Martin Pettit and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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